


Will Grant Wishes for Coffee

by hopelessly_me



Category: Marvel
Genre: Adorable Clint, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky created a caffeine addict, Bucky gets his new arm, Bucky just wants a hug, Bucky just wants some sleep, Bucky might be addicted to Clint's smile a little too much, Bucky rations his sleep, Clint Needs a Hug, Clint can be a jerk sometimes, Clint takes his job very seriously, Clint wants all the coffee, Concerned Bucky, Confused Bucky, Genie!Clint, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Language, Protective Clint, Sleeping Together, Soft Boys, Tired Bucky, Upset Bucky, Upset Clint, amused Clint, angsty in parts, anxious Clint, domestic life with a hint of magic, involved Natasha, lets be real, obvious final wish, pining Bucky, slowburn, so many cuddles, worried Natasha, worried steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me
Summary: Bucky stumbles across an old pocket watch when he is in a thrift store buying clothes for a Stark Party. He wasn't exactly expecting a tall blond to pop out of it, claiming to be a genie who can grant him five wishes.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 69
Kudos: 315





	Will Grant Wishes for Coffee

  
Bucky wandered into a thrift shop, holding his phone while looking through several photos. He was a man on a mission and he _really_ didn’t want to screw it up. It was a last moment invite to a party, something he suspected was probably a pity invite, but there was going to be food involved, and Steve was always on him about “branching out” and “trying to find himself again”, so he reluctantly agreed to a theme party. But he had never heard of Steampunk before and, well, he didn’t want this to be his last invite.

Admittedly, Bucky had been a bit of a recluse since coming home from Afghanistan. He had joined the military thinking he could make a career out of it- maybe come back and be a higher officer, giving calls from the office instead of out on the field. He was good at what he did, he was good with being second in command, and he was one hell of a shot. One IED later, he was home with honorable discharge and lacking an arm. The first two years had been one nightmare after another- between all the physical therapy, therapy-therapy, occupational therapy, Bucky was in a constant state of high stress. His PTSD was through the roof and he was miserable to be around. Bucky hated everything he had become.

Slowly, things became tolerable at best. Now, he still had to deal with phantom pain, he still had nightmares, and nothing was going to erase the PTSD. He started taking online courses to get a degree to make himself useful again in the job market, not that Steve appreciated it when Bucky worded it that way, and he was working part time for the same man who wanted to make a fully functional prosthetic arm. Besides, working for Stark wasn’t the worst thing in the world, as long as Bucky reminded the man that he should eat and sleep.

In fact, it was Tony’s idea that Bucky come to the party he was throwing for his birthday. “And I will not take no for an answer, Barnes” was what he ended that chat with, leaving Bucky with no other choices. At least there were going to be familiar faces in the crowd- he knew Steve was going, Bruce, Natasha, Sam, Rhodes, and Pepper. If nothing else he was sure one of them would rescue him the moment things became too much. Tony had a way of throwing parties that became too much, too fast.

As he looked through all the clothing, he double checked all the references he had taken with him and wished he would have just gone to a costume shop and called it a day. Sure, almost every other person would be wearing something like Bucky would, but it would have taken the thought process out of the equation. But costume shops cost money and that wasn’t something Bucky had much of. He was too proud to ask his family for any help because he wanted to prove he could do this on his own, even if it was mostly to prove it to himself.

It took close to an hour, but Bucky felt like he had found all the items he needed to make a convincing enough Steampunk outfit. He walked up to the front, calculating how much this was going to cost him in the long run and was pleased that it was under fifteen dollars. When it was his turn, he set all the items up onto the display case and watched as the lady rang every item up. That was when his eye caught the pocket watch in the case; it was a little grimy, looked pretty battered and worse for wear, but in his mind- it was perfect. Bucky was a little battered and worse for wear too.

“Excuse me- how much for the pocket watch?” he asked.

“That thing?” the woman asked, grunting. She fished it out. “Five dollars. It doesn’t work, or so said the note it came with. Can’t even get the damn thing to open. You don’t want-”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just for a costume,” Bucky said. He fished out his money as she added it to the total and paid. “Thank you!” Happy with his decisions, Bucky set a quick pace to return home.

Bucky immediately started the laundry the moment he walked into his apartment. He sat on top of the washer and waited, his feet swinging as he turned the pocket watch over in his hands. It looked old, but maybe it was because it needed a bit of shining up and the dings didn’t help. He tried a few times to open the watch, but the button appeared to be jammed. He was sure he could work on that after dinner.

“Hey,” Bucky greeted the moment his phone went off. “What’s up, Steve?”

“ _ Did you pick up your costume yet for the party? _ ” Steve asked.

“Yes, I did. And it’s still almost a week away,” Bucky pointed out. “Did you?”

“ _ Yes, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need any help. _ ” Steve was always calling to check in to make sure Bucky didn’t need any help. Most of the time it made Bucky feel good, knowing he had a friend as good as Steve; other times it made Bucky feel small, like he wasn’t able to care for himself, but he was working on that. “ _ How are you doing today, anyway? _ ”

“Well,” Bucky replied, walking to the kitchen and putting the phone on speaker so he could make coffee. “I answered my phone. So that’s a plus. My therapist said I am doing a ‘good thing’ by going to the party, because I need to push myself out of my comfort zone. He also said I should try to take in-class courses instead of just online because forever social isolation is bad for the psyche or whatever. So I mean… pretty damn good.”

“ _ I guess he isn't wrong. But hey- you are making progress. That’s a new one _ ,” Steve said, sounding encouraging. “ _ I have to work late today. But we should get together tomorrow. Do lunch or something _ .”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said. “No where crowded, and I mean it.” Bucky wasn’t sure he could take two days in a row going places that were crowded in any way. There hadn’t been many people in the thrift store, but the racks of clothes were packed in so tight that Bucky was damn close to having to leave.

By the time Steve was off the phone, Bucky had changed his laundry over and was settling in with a mug of coffee. His dinner was in the oven baking, and for the moment- life was good. He wasn’t too exhausted or wrung out from the day, Tony had mostly left him alone to do paperwork so he didn’t have too much social interaction at work, he had remembered to eat his lunch on time, and he had taken his pills- so yeah, the day was a good day. 

“Alright… I know you can open, you aren’t that jammed,” Bucky muttered, turning the watch over in his hand. 

He fiddled with it a little more before he went to his bathroom. The last time Becca had stayed over, she had left a bobby pin behind. Once collected, Bucky sat back down and worked at the watch more, proving to be increasingly difficult with one hand. There was more grunting and growling involved that strictly necessary if Bucky were being honest, but the button was indeed stuck firmly in it’s place.

When the oven alerted him that his food was done, he tossed the watch onto the table and collected his food. He glared at the watch throughout the course of his dinner, trying to will it open with his mind, as if that were an actual option. There was no way that Bucky was going to let a pocket watch get the best of him- there had to be a way to get the button to loosen.

Bucky took his time after dinner. He cleaned all the dishes, scrubbed down the counters in the kitchen, and took a long shower. He tried to convince himself that the watch opening wasn’t a big deal. It was just a costume piece afterall, but it bothered him. Knowing that he  _ could _ get it open if he tried was weighing more on his mind than anything else. 

With determination, Bucky went back to trying to open the pocket watch. He tried to pry it, tried to press down the button more firmly, but nothing seemed to make it work. Out of sheer frustration, Bucky whipped it across the room and watched it bounce off the wall. There was a bright light just then and Bucky shielded his eyes.

“Oi! What the  _ fuck _ ? You tryin’ to kill me, sir?” Bucky stared at the space the watch was and above it was a man, rubbing at his head and neck. “Hell! That is  _ not  _ a good way to start out this very short friendship, master.” The man was tall and lean, with the most impressive set of arms Bucky had ever seen. He had the sloppiest blond hair and the brightest blue eyes and-  _ shit, he is staring at me.  _

The man’s lips curled up into a smirk and Bucky was still reeling over what happened. “I believe the phrase take a picture it lasts longer applies here,” he said with a hint of a purr. Bucky didn’t make a move still. “Do you want the speech now or do you want me to hold off until you are thinking properly, gorgeous?”

“Speech?” Bucky asked, hating the shaky way it came out.

“I’m taking that as a now,” the man said before he crosses his arms. “Congrats, master. You have released me from my confinement. I am a genie, and I am here to do your bidding through the next five wishes. As such, you may wish for anything that pleases you, but there are limits. I cannot change a person’s core, I will  _ not _ make someone fall hopelessly in love with you, you cannot wish for more wishes, that is called cheating, and I cannot bring back the dead. I would rather not kill someone, but the rules on that are loosey goosey. You may send me away whenever you please, you can call me forth whenever it pleases you. After five wishes- poof. I am no longer yours.”

Bucky stared at the man in disbelief. His mind was working double time to catch up and process what he had just heard.  _ What the hell _ was the most common sentence playing through his head. Bucky was wrapped up, trying to read the facial and body cues, but nothing was matching. He was smiling but it didn’t reach his eyes; there was something burning back there that Bucky couldn’t quite understand what and it was making him more uncomfortable.

“Okay- this thing had a drug on it,” Bucky told himself out loud. “It was a contact drug, it seeped in through my skin, maybe the light was a powder-“

“This is real life, master,” the genie sang.  _ God I hate that smirk _ .

“And maybe part of my subconscious coming out- maybe I should try harder at therapy,” Bucky added as he started to pace. “Maybe it has everything to do with- with-“

“Magic and a failed attempt to do the right thing.”

It was hard to ignore that voice, with all its pitch range and musical notes. He had sounded so joyous, but it was also dripping with venom. And he still wasn’t smiling with more than just his lips, the man’s eyes growing darker.

“Going to make a wish yet, master?”

“I wish I could just get some goddamn sleep without nightmares for a change,” Bucky growled.

The man rose an eyebrow, that smile fading back to his smirk. “Your wish is my command, master.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky asked, squinting. He felt very tired and could barely move himself to the couch. “Oh shit, I’m going to die.”

“Oh shit, you are going to sleep, without nightmares for a goddamn change,” the man informed Bucky. Bucky barely managed to get himself on the couch, struggling to keep his eyes open. He caught a blurry glimpse of someone leaning down near him as he closed his eyes. “Nighty night.”

Bucky didn’t wake up with a start or a choked sob. He didn’t wake up with phantom pains, or by reaching for a weapon. He woke up feeling rested and peaceful. He wasn’t sure the last time he had slept so well had been. There was light streaming through the window, coaxing him awake. He hadn’t felt this good in years.

When his phone started buzzing, Bucky pulled himself out of his hazy, sleepy bliss and answered it. “ ‘ello,” he greeted.

“ _ Do you have any idea how worried everyone is? _ ” Bucky frowned, his mind focusing. He checked his phone, seeing it was Natasha hissing at him at-

“Holy shit,” Bucky wheezed, jumping out of bed. “Oh shit, I am late to work.”

“ _ We have all been trying to reach you all morning, _ ” Natasha pointed out. “ _ What is wrong? What’s going on? _ ”

“I just- slept,” Bucky admitted. His mind was still a little fuzzy around the edges, but the bits from last night were coming back. He looked around and spotted the split open pocket watch, eyeing it from a safe distance. “I have to go.” He hung up before Natasha could argue with him. Admittedly, that probably wasn’t the smartest idea on his end.

He remembered flinging the watch at the wall in frustration, and then- no, that had to be his mind playing tricks on him. There weren’t such things as magic, and genies, and beautiful blonds popping out of them. It was  _ insane _ . But the urge to find out more was there- just to test it, make sure that he wasn’t going crazy.

Bucky focused himself to send out texts, apologizing to literally  _ everyone _ he knew, which was more embarrassing and heartwarming than he cared to admit. He changed into sweats and a tshirt, because Stark said he didn’t have to come in for the day, and reheated some pasta he had made a few days back. He tried to turn on the news, tried to pick up his book,  _ anything _ he could to forget about the pocket watch.

He made it exactly thirty-two minutes. “Hey… erm, genie?” he tried. When there was nothing, he let out a sigh of relief.  _ I was just tired, my mind was playing tricks on me.  _ “Heh- stupid genie,” he said as he got up and headed to grab his shoes to go out for a run.

“You’re stupid.”

Bucky nearly fell with the way he scrambled for the door. He grabbed onto the lock and looked back. It was the same man as the day before, his smile somewhere before smug and  _ ain’t you precious _ . Bucky tried to catch his breath as he walked the man lean against the wall, kicking one foot back to hold himself steady as he crossed his arms and observed Bucky.

“No. No no no,” Bucky groaned.

“I mean, kinda yes?” the man said with half a wince for Bucky’s benefit it seemed. “I mean, you could tell me to get bent and back in the watch I go until you decide you want me back. But seeing as  _ you _ called  _ me _ , well-” he shrugged.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “You’re a- a-”

“Genie, yes.”

“But you are wearing sweats.”

The man rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, appearing to be in a suit.  _ Fuck, he looks good in a suit _ Bucky thought, swallowing back the comment before he could make it. “Better? More official for you, master?” the man teased, not leaving his spot.

“But aren’t genies… I dunno… female?” Bucky asked. “Or, I guess, I dunno. Blue or something.”

“Wow. Okay, first, sexist,” the man said, pointing at Bucky. “Second, racist? Maybe racist? Hell, I dunno. Never met another genie before. But! I do know what Disney movie you are referencing and I don’t appreciate it.” The man snapped his fingers again and Bucky thought for a minute that his heart was going to give out. The suit was gone and replaced with gauzy pants and a bralette. “I can’t really do much about the skin tone and the gender but… the clothes make you feel better there, master?” he asked.

“It could… be worse?” Bucky asked and the laugh he got in reply made his stomach flip. His eyes scanned over the toned muscles, especially the shoulders where his eyes lingered a little longer than he had meant. The man had legs for days, which wasn’t helping things much either.

“I do have eyes, y’know.”

Bucky looked up then held his hand up. “Okay, wait. So this is-”

“Real.”

“And I’m not-”

“Nope. Now can I change because this is unsettling?” Bucky nodded. The genie snapped again and was in his original outfit for the day, and Bucky almost wished he would have gone back to the suit. The man standing across from him rose an eyebrow, daring Bucky to say anything further about it.

“.... you made me sleep for thirteen hours straight,” Bucky commented.

“No,  _ you _ slept for thirteen hours straight, I only made it possible for you to sleep,” the man said defensively. “I was getting a bit worried by hour eleven but eh- no judgement.”

“My friends were losing their shit!”

“Still on you, master.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“No can do,” the man said, singing again. “Kinda part of the rule. Until I hear your name. Then it’s Master Insert-your-name-here.” The man’s hands moved as he talked, emphasizing his point. “So, gorgeous master o’ mine, do you perhaps have a name?”

“Bucky.” It was automatic.

“Master Bucky. That’s... huh,” he said.

“Got a problem with Bucky?” Bucky asked, his chest puffing out.

“Calm down there, master gorgeous, I was just expecting something more manly,” the man insisted, holding a hand out with a calming smile. “Like… George.”

“George.”

“Is that not a popular name?” he asked. “Huh. I dunno. I don’t get out much. I kinda live in a pocket watch.” When he added a wink Bucky thought he was in too much trouble for his own good. “So, Master Bucky…. You remember the rules?”

“Five wishes-”

“Four now.”

Bucky’s jaw hit the floor. “Sleeping doesn’t count! I didn’t think you were serious!”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, gorgeous. You literally even said  _ I wish _ , so your wish was my command. You wanna wish for me to be wrong? Because then you are down to three.”

“You’re an ass.”

“So I have been told.” Bucky opened his mouth then closed it. The man looked almost gleeful about the exchange. “Also been told I’m a terrible flirt. Is that working on you yet?”

Bucky glared at him then walked. “This is insane.”

“So you have said.”

“What is your name?” The man was silent and Bucky had to look behind him to make sure the blond was still there. He genuinely looked shocked. “What?”

“No one asks me for my name. It’s weird,” he commented. “Normally it’s a wish a day and then I just… I dunno. End up somewhere different.” Bucky waited then leaned in and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “It’s Clint, master.”

“So, I only have four more wishes left.”

“Yes, so use them wisely,” Clint urged. “Don’t be stupid like some of the people I have met. One wanted a pet lizard. Like… you can just go buy one. They aren’t even hard to get ahold of.”

“I wished for sleep,” Bucky said dryly.

“And you were not the first, won’t be the last,” Clint assured him. He sprung off the wall and clapped his hands. “So- normally this is a five day stint. Got a wish for me?”

“I am milking this out for as long as I can,” Bucky said as he grabbed his shoes. “I am going for a run. Clear my head. You can… chill.”

“Only been doing that since 1823,” Clint said before he sat down. “See you later, Master Bucky.”

“Stop,” Bucky said firmly before he left.

_ This is a good problem to have, right? _ Bucky didn’t make it more than twenty minutes before his mind was wandering back to the apartment.  _ Four more wishes which means I need to plan these out carefully. Take my time. Clint doesn’t seem too bad. Maybe a little too cocky, and he definitely needs to stop with the Master thing but… this could be good. Life changing. I can’t ruin this _ . 

The other complication was- what if he slipped and told someone about his newfound excitement? Not only would he sound raging mad, but even if he tried to cover and say it was a new friend, Steve would be up his ass until he got to meet Clint. And honestly? How poorly could that go? Especially with Clint referring to Bucky as Master.  _ He would probably lay it on thick with Steve there too _ Bucky thought with a mental groan.

Today had seemed different in a way. Clint didn’t seem as angsty as he had the day before. He wasn’t rubbing his head, or smiling without it reaching his eyes. He was laughing and joking, and now that Bucky could reflect back on it, he could smile as well. There was still a level of guardedness, which Bucky agreed with, but it didn’t seem like he watched Bucky with veiled hatred.

Either way- Bucky was going to take this slow, calculating out each step. If it took longer than his genie acquaintance thought it would, too bad. Anyway, it wasn’t as if Bucky was put out by any of it; Clint made pleasant eye candy if nothing else. And he  _ had _ said he could just sit and chill, which meant Clint must not have thought Bucky was too bad, or creepy, or abnormal.

Things definitely could be worse.

Bucky got home from work the next day and leaned against his front entrance door. “Clint.”

“Beautiful,” Clint said after a minute, sitting cross legged in the air. “Erm… master? Ah fuck, beautiful is probably fine. I haven’t been zapped yet.”

“You are… incredibly weird,” Bucky muttered and watched as Clint acted like he was tipping a hat and winked. “I know what I want my next wish to be.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Clint said, rubbing his hands together. “What shall it be, Master? A whole new wardrobe? New loafers that don’t look like someone’s father’s? A fresh haircut  _ with _ shampoo?”

“You’re an ass.”

“Yes, I know, we have been over that already,” Clint said with a new smile; it was brighter than the sun and Bucky’s heart gave a little squeeze. “The wish, Master Bucko.”

Bucky sighed, which only seemed to increase Clint’s amusement. “I want a better job at Stark Industries that doesn’t require continuing with college  _ and _ pays enough where I don’t have to worry about bills anymore.” Clint’s face shifted to something more serious, considering Bucky’s wish. “... I am supposed to say I wish… aren’t I?”

“No, not necessary,” Clint said carefully. “More like… why not wish to win the lotto?”

“Because I want to work still- feel useful,” Bucky stressed.

“You’re pretty, you know that?” Clint rolled his eyes and stood, stretching. Today's ensemble was shorts a little too short and a tank top that seemed to follow suit. Stretching meant patches of skin showing through, and Bucky laser focused on it for a minute before he knew he had to look away before he got caught. “So what? You would be rich. You could still work while being rich.”

“Isn’t this my wish?” Bucky asked, teasing him.

Clint pulled a face, that darkness behind his eyes again. Bucky wasn’t sure why it returned, he thought he had said it with enough of a snort and laugh that Clint wouldn’t have been upset. “If that is really what you want,” he said.

“In New York you have to disclose who you are- people would know it was me,” Bucky pointed out nervously. “I would rather have people not know that I have money of any sort.”

The dark look behind Clint’s eyes slowly dissolved as he considered Bucky’s words, and eventually he nodded. “So… you wish to climb the ranks at Stark Industries while maintaining a job that both pays well and doesn’t require a college degree?” he asked. Bucky nodded, a little bit jarring in motion as he held his breath. “Mhhh- that’s… complicated. I haven’t done a wish like that. I can try it though.” He cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms out in front of himself. “Alright, one super special non-degree needed job hopefully coming up. I can’t really promise what you will end up with. My guess is someone’s food order bitch.” 

He thought about it for a minute before he snapped. Bucky and Clint both held still for a minute, waiting to see what was going to happen before Clint shrugged. “Guess you’ll find out tomorrow, huh?” he asked. He turned his wrist over. “The wish took. You are down to three.”

“Wait, you have tally marks?” Bucky asked.

Clint grinned and proudly displayed his wrist to Bucky, three dark lines against tanned skin. “Yep! Not that it matters. If I forget where we are at, at five, as soon as I make the wish, I’m gone. I don’t really have control over that aspect. Or many aspects really. It’s complicated.”

“Ah.” Bucky wasn’t sure how to reply to that, shifting his weight before he decided to go to the kitchen. “So, I got a question. Or twelve.”

“Shoot, master, I am all yours,” Clint replied. Bucky made himself a sandwich and walked out. Clint was inspecting a series of photos Bucky had on his wall, with all of Bucky’s friends in it.

“You said you’ve been chillin’ since 1823?” Clint turned around, yet again looking taken aback by the question. “What? I told you, I am taking my time on these wishes. Every other day seems about right. So…. 1823?”

Clint leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. “I pissed off the wrong person,” Clint said. “Circuses were still fairly new in America around that time. I remember going to one as a child and thinkin’ it was the best thing in the world. They weren’t like they are today. Either way, when I was old enough, I ran away and joined one because, well- the idea of not living at home anymore was a thrill. And I could travel the country, perhaps the world.” His expression was a little bittersweet as he spoke, his words softer than Bucky was used to hearing now, a few days in. 

“At first I was someone that set things up, tents and such, and I could build stands. I could feed the animals. But one night when I was up past the time I was supposed to be, I was caught practicing archery. I know, archaic,” Clint laughed at Bucky’s face. “But- I am a damn good shot with a bow in my hand. And guns really impacted my hearing, which was already in the dumps. And when they found out I could shoot, well, I learned to be a headliner. The greatest marksman in the world- Hawkeye.”

“You were actually that good?” Bucky asked.

“Only person at the time that thought they were better was my mentor,” Clint answered. “And I- I really didn’t think life could get any better. I was working all the time, sure, but I got to travel, I had my own money to spend. I figured if I was smart enough with it, I could quit after a few years, find a place and settle. Work odds and ends jobs to get me by in life. But it was a start.

“And that’s when I learned the circus was a front for organized crime,” Clint sighed, his face falling. “It bothered me that I was paid so much because they swindled the public. And I was upset by it. So I confronted my mentor about it. We got into a very heated argument, and the next thing I know I am being dragged off by several men to a tent of a woman who claimed to be psychic. Well, little did I know that she had some magical gift that was being exploited. And- here I am.”

Bucky was silent, taking the words in and mulling them over. Clint didn’t seem too bothered by the quiet, though he looked far away still, somewhere up in his head.  _ What do you even say to a person after that? _ Everything he could think of just sounded flat and lifeless, with no real meaning behind it even if he felt like there should be.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered.

“Shit,” Clint agreed.

“How much do you hate this?” Bucky asked.

“Eh,” Clint said, teetering his hand. “At first I was pissed. Sometimes I would purposely misinterpret wishes. But in the end that kind of hurts me more than it ever did them. So I kinda… got used to it. It’s normally five or so days every few decades of having to work.”

“And the rest of the time?” Bucky asked. Clint shrugged and waved his hand at the watch. “That’s-“

“Boring?” Clint guesses.

“Lonely.”

There was a flicker of something behind those blue eyes before Clint corrected himself. “It’s not so bad I suppose. Rather be alone for long periods of time than be used by cruel masters.” He took a deep breath. “So how did you lose the arm?”

“Overseas during the war,” Bucky answered and his stomach started to knot up. “I don’t talk about it much. Still a little… fresh.”

Clint nodded and looked around the apartment. It took a minute for Bucky to realize that he hadn’t snapped when asked so bluntly, which was new. He wondered when that had started, and wondered if that was the process he had been looking for.

“Who is this?” Clint asked, wandering over to a photo and pointing.

Bucky shuffled over and crossed his arms. “Steve, the punk,” Bucky snorted. It was from before the war, the day they graduated high school, arms sling around each other with smiles Bucky hadn’t seen since coming home injured. “We basically grew up together. He’s here too,” Bucky said, pointing to a different picture. “He convinced me to stop being a mopey asshole and try to do things again. So we did a run that raises money for Wounded Warriors.”

“You do seem like the mopey type, master,” Clint commented. There was such an easiness behind the words compared to two days ago, something less biting. “And who is the stunning redhead?”

“Natasha,” Bucky answered. “She is another good friend. She works for the government. Kinda scary, pretty badass.”

“She looks like she could kill someone with her pinky fifty different ways,” Clint snorted.

Clint went through every photo he could with Bucky, and Bucky happily obliged. Whenever Bucky would stop talking, start to feel panicked over a memory, Clint would steer the conversation elsewhere. Bucky wasn’t sure if he was genuinely interested or just craved the attention after being locked away for so long, but Bucky didn’t mind.

When his phone went off, Bucky glanced down. “Oh… so, uh, please don’t make this embarrassing but I have to take it.”

“ _ The  _ Stevie?” Clint asked in a teasing way, pointing to Steve’s photo. “So no sex noises or-“

“Oh god, no,” Bucky said with a groan before he answered the phone. “Hey Steve.”

Bucky could only half focus on what Steve is going on about because his focus is fixed on the other man in the apartment. He was walking around idly, leaning in closer to things to inspect them, but never dared to touch them it seemed. He stopped over a few photos again, a few of Bucky’s remaining military motifs that he keeps out, like his dog tags, and he tilted his head out of curiosity.

He had more questions now but he wanted to slowly ask them. Like how Clint stayed modern. Did they have televisions? News? Daily updates? The guy was stuck in a pocket watch- there was no reason for him to know about anything modern. But his attire was currently in style, and he didn’t seem too fazed by phones or the television. What did Clint do in his spare time in that watch? Or was it just sitting there, waiting for the next job to come in? What was it that he liked to do? Where would he like to see?

“ _ So tomorrow, at seven _ ,” Steve said.

“Wait… what?” Bucky asked.

“ _ Have you been listening at all?”  _ Steve asked in that accusing voice.

“To be perfectly honest… not a bit,” Bucky answered.

“ _ I said that after work you have that date… with Jessica?” _ Steve hinted. Bucky had forgotten entirely about the blind date Steve had arranged for Bucky a week ago. “ _ It’s at seven oclock, I’ll send you the address. She’s excited, Buck. I think this might be good for you. _ ”

“Yeah, alright, Punk. I’ll meet Jessica,” Bucky said. He caught Clint as he turned his head, raising a questioning brow at Bucky was a soft smile. “I’ll call you afterwards, let you know how it goes, alright?”

“ _ You alright, Bucky?” _ Steve asked. “ _ You sound a little off tonight. _ ”

“I’m fine, Steve,” Bucky grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully. Clint covered his mouth with a hand and turned away, his smile peeking around the edge of his hand. Bucky could feel him smiling at the fact he pulled that reaction from Clint. “Alright, send me that address, alright? I gotta go.” Bucky hung up the phone and sighed. “Fuck.”

“Just remember, can’t make someone fall in love with you,” Clint sang as he folded his legs, sitting on front of the television.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Bucky said, sitting down on the couch, his view blocked by that mop on top of Clint’s head. “Wouldn’t want to saddle anyone with me anyway.”

Clint rotated his body and looked at Bucky. “Saddle?” he asked. “Hell, gorgeous, someone would be lucky to have you. Smart, somewhat funny when not all broody, caring, not a dick,” he listed randomly.

“You are required to say that,” Bucky pointed out.

“Am I though?” Clint asked playfully as he looked back at the television. “Show me something. Anything. Relaxing night before your big date with  _ Jessica _ .”

“It’s not a date.”

“Oh, it is so a date,” Clint drawled, laughing at the end. “A date, a new job at work tomorrow- you’re going places, master.”

“Uh huh. You know what I think?” Bucky asked, reaching out to ran his hands through Clint’s hair only to be met by air. He pulled his hand back quickly. “What the fuck?”

Clint turned around and planted his hands on his knees, a sad smile creeping across his face. “Yeah, guess you hadn’t noticed that part yet, huh?” he asked. “Not exactly… touchable? Physical? Tangible? Whatever the word, I’m not that. But hey- it was nice you tried.”

“But… I thought when I threw the watch-”

“The watch gets damaged, I get hurt,” Clint said with a shrug. “Honestly- the dick who broke the watch? Pretty sure he was just trying to trap me in it. He wanted-” Clint pulled a face and glanced at the pocket watch in the corner. “He wanted to wish for things he couldn’t have. Got mad and- well, you saw how hard it was to open it.”

Bucky nodded, trying to think. “Alright, well-” He couldn’t find the words he wanted to say and his teeth grazed over his bottom lip. 

Clint rose an eyebrow and cocked his head before he smiled. “You got that awkward look on your face. That one where you are trying to think of an apology but can’t figure it out. It’s kinda cute.” Clint turned himself back around, leaning back on his arms to prop himself up, barely visible over the coffee table. “Alright- show me something, master. Put a good show on.”

“Yeah, alright. What are you feeling?” Bucky asked, grabbing the remote. “Action? Adventure? Comedy?”

“Mhhh, I’ll let you decide that,” Clint answered. “I’m not that picky.”

“Clint?”

“Hm?”

“How many people before me just let you stay out and hang?” Bucky asked nervously.

“Let’s say… ten percent,” Clint guessed. “Maybe twenty.”

“And you want to be out of the watch?”

Clint popped back up. “Do  _ you _ want me out of the watch?” he asked nervously. Bucky noticed the way he played with his shirt, twirling his fingers into the fabric as a means to keep himself busy. Bucky tried not to get wrapped up on how innocent Clint could look when he became nervous, the small smiles and his eyes darting to Bucky occasionally as if he were afraid looking too long would bring a negative response. 

“I… just want you to be happy,” Bucky said carefully. “You aren’t bothering me, but I don’t want you to think you have to stay out of the watch. I want you to do what you want to do.”

Clint seemed to be in awe as Bucky spoke, his jaw slightly lax before he got that brighter than the sun smile. “I want to stay out,” he answered decisively before he turned around. “Oooh! Cooking channel!” He added excitedly, moving until he was laying on his stomach, his arms folding under him. 

Bucky hadn’t even noticed he had stopped scrolling through the stations but he happily put the remote down. With how excited Clint chatted away about the foods they were making, sometimes inserting random stories of previous people he had met and their disasters in the kitchen, there was no way Bucky was going to turn the channel now.

It wasn’t until later at night, when Bucky finally decided to go to bed that a sense of knowing washed over him and he wanted to swear. He  _ liked _ the genie currently sleeping in the living room.  _ Shit. _

Bucky came home, stomping up the stairs and with his mind set. It had been both the best and the worst day he had had in awhile. He nearly ripped the door off its hinges when he got the key to finally release and heard it slam against the wall. He had one thing on his mind, and he knew exactly what he wanted.

Clint had been sitting in the air when Bucky arrived home and now he was on his feet, taking well calculated steps backwards from Bucky, keeping an eye on where he was at all times. “Not… the job you wanted?” he asked hesitantly.

“I wish for my arm back,” Bucky said firmly, stepping closer to Clint. He growled when Clint angled himself to slip around the coffee table, keeping distance between them. “For my third wish- I want my goddamn arm back.”

“Think about what you are asking,” Clint urged. “It changes a lot. I mean, what if-”

“I want my arm back,” Bucky shouted at Clint, hardly caring if Clint flinched away from the noise.

“No.”

Bucky stopped walking and glared. “What?” he hissed.

Clint squared up his shoulders. “No. I won’t grant it,” he said.

“I wish for you to give me back my arm.”

“I said no. I won’t.”

“You don’t get to decide! It doesn’t change anything! I am not hurting people by wanting my arm back!” Bucky shouted again. He started to walk again and stopped when Clint held his hands out, his eyes wide and pleading. “What?”

“... please don’t step on it.”

Bucky stared at Clint before his eyes traveled down. Just one step away, laying on the ground was the pocket watch. Bucky had forgotten it had fallen off the coffee table that morning when he was running late for work. He had nearly stepped on it and-

Bucky looked back to Clint, watched as his hands rubbed his arms. He didn’t make a move, didn’t say a word or tear his eyes away from Bucky. It was then that Bucky recognized what he was seeing- fear. Clint was waiting for Bucky to do the one thing he had admitted to hurting him, was waiting for Bucky to take his aggression out on the only way he could to get back at Clint.

Bucky clenched his fist and took a step back, feeling his body begin to shake.  _ What is wrong with me _ ? All his displaced anger was now folding over, swirling in his stomach, and he hated himself for it. He hated how he made Clint feel in that moment, hated how he let the rumors and the looks get under his skin enough to frighten the man who had been nothing but nice over the past several days.

“Tell me about it?”

Bucky watched as Clint tentatively stepped closer, his hands still on his arms. He was holding them at such a weird angle, like he was hiding-

“Are you whip marks?” Bucky asked, his eyes wide. Any amount of anger he had washed out of him and was replaced with concern. He reached out to touch Clint’s hand before he realized it was no use.

“It’s not a big deal,” Clint said in a rushed sort of way.

“They look like welts. How is that not a big deal? What is that from? Did I do that?” Bucky asked in a panic.

“No,  _ no _ , of course you didn’t,” Clint said just as quickly as before. “No… I did it. I… gave myself these.” Clint removed his hands and Bucky reached forward again and tried to run his hand over the welts forming on Clint’s arms. “It was a wish I could grant but I didn’t want to. When I don’t listen, when I don't follow the rules- this can be a result.” Clint wasn’t looking at Bucky again.

“So it was because of me,” Bucky whispered, his throat feeling tight as he tried not to cry.

“Wishing for an arm back doesn’t make you a bad person,” Clint said quietly. “It's because I didn’t want you to go through all the questions. People don’t just… sprout arms, master. But it doesn’t change your core, so I could have done it. This isn’t your fault, it is mine.”

“For protecting-”

“Stop.” Clint looked back up and gave Bucky a fake smile. “Your heart rate is elevating, your respirations as well. You are working your body into stress for worrying about something not worth worrying about.”

Bucky felt defeated. He sank onto the couch and hung his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm himself down. No matter what Clint said, trying to make Bucky feel better, in the end it was because he had lost his cool. Because he was having a bad day and his nerves were on fire that he had snapped and caused this mess. 

“Tell me what happened. Let me help you come up with a less jarring wish,” Clint offered. Bucky looked up to see him perched on top of the couch, his feet on the cushions.

“You should hate me right now,” Bucky muttered.

“I’ve lived long enough in this form to know when I should hate someone and when I should comfort them,” Clint answered. “Come on- let me help you. That’s what I am here for, gorgeous.” There was still an underlying tension between them, but for Bucky’s life he was sure Clint wouldn’t discuss it further at the moment.

Bucky sighed. “I got that promotion, which is great. It really is. But then the rumors started flying on how and why I was the one to get the job,” Bucky said. “It made focusing on the tasks Pepper was instructing me on hard. I guess I don’t do well when I know people are judging me. I do enough of that on my own.” Clint only hummed one agreement, letting Bucky finish his thought.”

“After that fiasco, I had the date with Jessica. And while she seemed… lovely… she ended up being shit face drunk,staring at my lack of an arm almost the entire time and it only got worse.” Bucky rubbed his head and leaned back, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “I should be used to it all. It’s not like this is new. But it wedges itself right under my skin and I let it build, and build until- pop.”

Clint hummed and Bucky watched him as he seemingly was trying to think. “I… actually don’t have a good wish suggestion for you,” he admitted. “I can’t make people stop talking about you. I won’t wish the arm back- that would be a hard one to explain to your friends, after all.” He smiled a little. “I know rumors are hard to deal with, but the longer you let them eat you, the longer they seem to persist? If people know that’s a weakness, they are going to eat away at it until it eats away at you.”

“Sage advice,” Bucky grumbled.

“I know, easier said than done,” Clint sighed. “I can’t wish for you to be comfortable with it all, because that changes your core. And I can’t wish for-”

Bucky was only half listening now as he watched Clint’s face. His nose would scrunch up, his brows tug down as he tried to work out the perfect way to help Bucky. All the fear from before was gone as he slipped down from the top of the couch to the cushions, folding his long legs. All the tension and rage Bucky felt was gone, replaced with the overwhelming sense of being worn. Clint would occasionally run his hands through his hair, his biceps flexing as he did so. His eyes scanned the ground or the wall, as if the answer would suddenly pop up there if he would just pay close enough attention to it.

Bucky knew what his next wish was going to be, and he knew it likely wasn’t a smart, or even healthy, wish. He pushed back all his nerves about it. “Clint,” he interrupted. Clint stopped talking and looked over. “I wish you were tangible for the duration of the last two wishes.”

Clint leaned back, his eyes wide from surprise. His face flushed a little. “I… I don’t know if that wish is possible, master,” he admitted.

“Never know until you try,” Bucky pointed out.

“Why do you want me tangible?” Clint asked and Bucky could tell it was out of curiosity, not because he was willing to fight it.

“Because I could really use a hug right now and the only person I let that close to me is Steve,” Bucky answered. “And Steve isn’t here so-”

“Shh, okay,” Clint said. “I can try.” He looked a little embarrassed and he got up, walking towards the pocket watch. “Okay… okay,” he said mostly to himself, pacing. “Is this weird?”

“Clint.”

“No, right, you’re right, of course you’re right, master,” Clint said in a hurried manner. “Okay… tangible Clint genie, coming up… maybe.” Clint shook out his hands and his body and took a deep breath. “Wish me luck. Heh.” Clint choked on an escaped laugh before he bounced on his toes and snapped his fingers. Bucky had to close his eyes against the bright light that followed before he made it to his feet. Clint was looking himself over, clearly confused. “It… took. It shows it took.” He looked up excitedly. “I think I can touch things!”

Bucky stepped over and reached out before he pulled his hand back. Clint looked at him, a goofy, broad smile growing before he practically pounced onto Bucky, who stumbled back against the unfamiliar weight. His arm wrapped around Clint on instinct, trying to keep them both upright. Clint was laughing, his chest vibrating against Bucky’s; Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he was hugged like this- it certainly wasn’t since he had come home.

“Oh my God, your  _ hair _ ,” Clint gushed, his hands brushing over Bucky’s hair, his fingers combing through it. “It’s so soft.” Bucky managed to step back just enough to catch the wonder in Clint’s eyes as he looked at everything as if it were brand new. Clint’s hands moved to Bucky’s face, his beard. When he caught Bucky’s eyes, his lips tugged up into a sheepish grin.

“Wait-  _ wait _ ,” Clint said. He nearly flung himself off of Bucky and scrambled to the window. He opened it carefully after he had figured out the locks and leaned out. “It’s  _ amazing _ !” he declared excitedly. “It’s windy out!” Clint leaned down so that his forearms were rested on the window sill and he looked around outside. “You  _ live _ here.”

“Yeah, I live here,” Bucky agreed. “Do you… want to go for a coffee?” he asked without much thought. He knew it was late, that he should be showering and going to bed, but he wasn’t ready to turn his thoughts away from Clint’s excitement.

Clint turned around to look at him, his hand against the wall to help hold him up. “I’ve never had coffee before. Couldn’t afford it. Is it good?”

“If you feel like staying up for hours from caffeine… yes,” Bucky answered.

“You have work,” Clint pointed out. He smiled more and leaned against the wall. “And it’s past ten. What you need is a shower and some sleep.” He turned and closed the window, playing with the lock until Bucky heard it slip into place. “Rain check, master gorgeous. Come on.”

Clint hesitated before he took Bucky’s hand, his face lighting up as he gave Bucky a tug. Bucky never imagined his hands would be so rough and calloused over, nor did he realize they were just on the right side of being larger. Clint pulled him down the short hall and flipped on the light to the bathroom, letting out another soft noise as he looked around.

“I can shower by myself,” Bucky said, trying to come across as firm but he was too fixated on Clint’s wonder for it to come across as anything more than a weak suggestion. Clint was playing with the shower curtain, inspecting the tub before he looked back. “I… you want me to show you how it works or…?”

“I know how baths work, gorgeous,” Clint laughed. “Sorry, you’re right. You can shower by yourself. Been doin’ it for years I can imagine,” he said, slipping by Bucky, somehow managing not to touch him. “What… should I do?” he asked.

“Uh-” Bucky looked back down the hall. “Find something on the television to watch? Or maybe-”

The last thing he was expecting was a knock on his front door. Clint and Bucky both looked at the door before each other. “Room,” Bucky mouthed to Clint before he headed down the hall to grab the front door. He hoped Clint took the hint because the last thing he wanted to do was explain what Clint was doing in his apartment. He unlocked the door and frowned. “Steve?”

“Hey Buck, you alright?” Steve asked, his eyebrows pulled close. “Mrs. Vitech called me saying you were shouting.”  _ Of course she called Steve. Damn spy. _ “And then she said she heard another voice in here. A man.”

“Uh- I just- nightmare,” Bucky answered, feeling the heat crawling up his neck.

“A nightmare?” Steve asked. “I can understand how that reflects on the arm but the other voice?” Steve crossed his arms. “What are you hiding from me? Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?”

Bucky chewed his lip before he noticed Steve shift, standing taller and peering over Bucky. He didn’t even have to look to feel himself holding his breath. “Uhm… he was talking to me,” Clint answered Steve meekly. “He had a nightmare and called me over to help settle a bit- I was just getting off of work. She likely heard me talking. My hearing is, uh, well, it’s not the best, and my hearing aids were dying so I was talking a little louder than normal.” Bucky turned around and watched as Clint’s cheeks started to turn pink as he ambled over. He held a hand out. “I’m Clint. His, well, friend.”

“Steve,” Steve introduced, shaking Clint’s hand and looking a little more dazed. Bucky felt one of Clint’s hands on his back, and he couldn’t quite figure out if it was to help calm Bucky down, or to calm himself. “I didn’t realize you had someone over, Buck. Or knew Clint or…”

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now,” Clint explained and Bucky was going to have to explain to him what he just said implied.

“You’ve been seeing each other?” Steve asked, focusing on Bucky.

“Casually. It’s nothing serious. It’s just, uhm-” Bucky looked at Clint and his shy smile and Bucky tried to appear more confident; afterall, if Clint was willing to stick his neck out for Bucky, the least he could do was reign this conversation in. “I’m fine. I called Clint because I woke up with phantom pain and I was feeling on edge, and he had just gotten out of work. So I’m good, punk.”

“So good he was about to go hop in the shower so he can go to bed,” Clint reminded Bucky gently.

“What Clint said,” Bucky agreed with a nod. “Work tomorrow. And you!” Bucky said, shoving Steve’s shoulder and smiled. “You have work tomorrow too! Get out of here, Punk. I am not going to be the one held liable if you screw up. Sam will slaughter me.”

Steve looked concerned still, his eyes moving between Clint and Bucky as if he was unraveling a puzzle. Bucky had no way to reassure him everything was going to be alright, he had done everything he could to ease his mind and wasn’t sure what else Steve wanted to know. In some ways, Bucky was surprised Steve hadn’t started to grill Clint on his job, where exactly he lived, and a social security number “just because”.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve relented. “Clint- will you be going to Tony’s party with Bucky?”

“Steve,” Bucky warned.

“If he invites me, yes,” Clint answered. “Otherwise-” Clint shrugged. “Everything is kind of on Bucky’s time right now. I’m patient.” Comments like that  _ definitely _ weren't helping but Bucky did his best to keep his cool. “It was nice to meet you, Steve. I’ll maybe see you again in a few days.”

“Yeah, same to you, Clint. Bucky, text me in the morning, okay?” Steve requested. Bucky grew up with Steve to recognize that Steve was a little worked up and nervous about Bucky keeping secrets, even if Clint was a rather new development.

“Will do,” Bucky sighed. “See you this weekend, Punk.” Bucky closed the door and locked it before he leaned against it. “And now he thinks we are dating.”

“Eh. Go shower,” Clint answered. “I am going to play with the television.”

“You realize now I  _ have _ to invite you to that party right?” Bucky asked. “And it’s themed.”

“A themed party?” Clint asked, that hint of excitement back. “What is the theme?”

“Steampunk. You know what that is?”

“Not a lick,” Clint answered. “I’ll figure it out. If you invite me, of course.” Bucky looked back at Clint’s challenging eyes, a cocky smirk that made his stomach clench before fluttering away. “Shower,” Clint said slowly, emphasizing every sound he could.

“You are as bad as Steve is,” Bucky mumbled.

“Just trying to keep you happy and healthy, master,” Clint said with a laugh.

“Stop calling me that, and  _ definitely _ don’t say it in front of anyone,” Bucky groaned, shuffling off to the shower.

“Whatever you want, gorgeous!” Clint called after him and Bucky couldn’t help but to smile.

He took a long shower, trying to let the water wash away every worry he had for the day. The rumors, while infuriating, were just that- he could ignore rumors. The failed date with Jessica and staring at his lack of an arm could be easily brushed off- a lot of people seem to fixate on that when they first meet or see Bucky. He wondered how long he had been letting those feelings bottle up for him to come to a head and explode the way he did. He was going to have to apologize to Mrs. Vitech, maybe give her some baked goods as a peace offering. The last thing he intended to do was give the older lady a freight.

The last thing he had intended to do was scare Clint as well. Thinking about the fear in his eyes when Bucky was just a moment away from stepping unconsciously on the pocket watch made Bucky start to tense up again. The way Clint tried to hide the lash marks on his arm so Bucky wouldn’t feel more responsible for the night’s disaster didn’t help much either, or the way he had casually tried to brush it under the rug. Clint was protecting Bucky against all the bad when Bucky thought he deserved whatever came when he lost his temper, even if that meant Clint going back to not trusting him again.

But then with the way his face lit up like a christmas tree when he could touch things again- the way his eyes were wide from awe just by running his fingers through Bucky’s hair. His excitement over being able to feel a breeze against his face, and the way it gently ruffled his already tousled hair. Even the way he tried to handle Steve in order to have Bucky’s back- all of that he was doing for Bucky.

The problem was- Clint was doing it under obligation. Bucky was sure that Clint figured he had to stand up for Bucky due to the genie bound. And even if Clint had worked himself up into lashes to stop Bucky from requesting a careless mistake, it was for Bucky’s benefit. In two more wishes, Clint would be gone, and Bucky would be back to being alone in his tiny apartment all by himself with just the memories of everything he had gone through.

He hated to admit to himself he had let his mind take every little action too far. The playfulness, the gentle words, the light touches- all of it had started getting into Bucky’s head in the worst way he could imagine. He knew he should make the last two wishes over the course of the next two days, rip the bandaid off so to speak, but the thought of losing Clint was worse than knowing that Clint was only doing all of this because he felt like he had to.

With the shower lasting longer than Bucky anticipated, Bucky finally made his way out and hovered in the doorway to his bedroom. “... what are you doing?”

Clint was sprawled on Bucky’s head, staring up at the ceiling. He turned his head and looked over with a dopey smile. “Been awhile since I laid in a bed. I kinda like it.” He scooted himself over before he sat up. “Want me to leave so you can sleep?”

Bucky felt a knot in his throat and swallowed against it. “You can sleep in bed if you want. I have to get some sleep though.”

Clint nodded and pulled at the covers until he was covered up, holding one side open for Bucky. As carefully as he could, Bucky slipped under the covers and laid flat on his back. He took a deep breath and sighed. He only opened his eyes when he felt Clint brushed against him and he looked over. “Okay?” Clint asked.

“You… want to…”

“Cuddle?” Clint asked. “You wished me to be tangible because you needed a hug, right? Well, what’s better than a hug than falling asleep all comfy and warm and cuddling? I bet I make an excellent big spoon.”

Bucky couldn’t help but to laugh. “You are taking this role very seriously.”

“The most serious,” Clint agreed. “Now… going to take me up on it or is this going to get awkward?”

“Alright, fine,” Bucky agreed, turning over. He felt Clint move until he was pressed against Bucky’s back, wrapped around his front. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember the moment as well as he could because he knew it wasn’t going to last.

“Good night, Bucky,” Clint whispered.

“Alright, I need to hear this,” Natasha said, finding Bucky during his lunch break. Bucky had hoped for some peace and quiet during his day and clearly he wasn’t going to get it. He looked up at Natasha before he shoved a forkful of his salad into his mouth. “Who is Clint and how did you meet?”

“Fuckin’ Steve,” Bucky grumbled as he tossed his fork down.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone,” Natasha said. “In fact, why  _ didn’t _ you tell me you were seeing someone?”

“Do we really have to have this conversation at work, Natasha?” Bucky groaned. Natasha just stared at him, waiting for his answer. Bucky thought maybe if he ignored her and ate his salad he had a fighting chance. But when she rose a single eyebrow, he knew he needed to just come out with it. “We aren’t actually dating, Natasha. We’re seeing each other.”

“Oh, right, huge difference,” Natasha commented, rolling her eyes. “Just a casual thing, is it? Why haven’t we heard of Clint.”

“Because it’s not that serious,” Bucky tried to explain, though he didn’t like having to say it. “Because it can’t be serious.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s moving soon and I need to accept the fact that this is going to end.” Natasha gave him a pitying look and Bucky hated it. “Stop, alright? I knew going in he wasn’t going to be in town long. Just for an assignment and then… who knows. I know after this we won’t be seeing each other, okay? So this is just… it’s something fun.”

Natasha took a sip of her tea, considering his words. Bucky’s hunger died instantly, his stomach knotting up. He hated the feelings he had for his current roommate; he knew they weren’t logical and in the end he was only hurting himself. Wishing for Clint to be tangible was a terrible idea. It had been a long time since Bucky woke up and felt comfortable with someone’s weight against him; it was a long time since he woke up with someone in his bed period. It had been a long time since he woke up and watched the other person sleep and wishing the moment didn’t have to end. He could still count the freckles he hadn’t noticed before, faint but there in the early morning glow. It made his heart ache already and he couldn’t stop fixating on it.

“You should consider becoming a better liar if you want to lie to me,” Natasha offered. Bucky sighed and leaned back. “We dated throughout high school, Bucky. As if I don’t recognize when you are in love.”

“I am not in love, I barely know him,” Bucky countered.

Natasha reached across the table. “You are in so deep and don’t want to admit it, it’s cute,” she said. Bucky hated how right she was. “Just… talk to him about it, okay? If it works out, great. If not- you know Steve and I will help pick you back up. All of us will.”

Bucky groaned. “Steve put you up to this and I’m going to punch the punk when I see him.” Bucky pushed his tray away from him. “Can we focus on your love life?”

“Or the perfect lack thereof?” Natasha asked before she took a sip from her tea. “No, we cannot. Not when your newly developed love problem is completely and utterly intriguing.” Bucky hated the smug way she said it. “When do I get to meet him?”

“Never,” Bucky answered. Natasha rolled her eyes. “As I said, he is leaving soon. No reason for my friends to get attached to someone that won’t be here long.” Bucky avoided Natasha’s gaze as he pushed his food around with his fork. “New topic please?”

“How’s the new position working out?” Natasha asked, making the transition effortless. “Stark seems very happy with your work.”

“Well- I kinda love it,” Bucky admitted. “As for Stark- I don’t think he has paid that much attention to my work.”

It wasn’t a lie- Bucky loved his new position. Sure, it was how Clint described it, he was really just a glorified secretary, mostly to Pepper, but it was something. Watching Pepper at her job, wrangling people in who thought she wasn’t good enough? It was pure magic. He had so much to learn from her, from everyone really. And in the end he felt like it could be something he would be good at.

He spent the rest of his lunch talking shop talk with Natasha, gossiping about what others were saying. It felt easier now that they had switched up their conversation, Bucky feeling his shoulders falling back down, relaxed. Natasha talked about traveling for her job next week, and how she was taking extra time for a vacation while overseas.

“You know, I could go for a spa day,” Natasha said. “I know you don’t want your friends to get attached but… make an exception?” she said as she got up. “Saturday, me, you, and mystery man. Mani pedi date.”

“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” Bucky asked as he got up, collecting his tray.

“Mhhh, its like you know me so well,” Natasha mused. “I’ll make the appointment. Don’t disappoint me, Barnes.”

“I am far too afraid of you to,” Bucky snorted, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “I’m grabbing an extra coffee. I’ll check with Clint, his schedule, and get back to you, alright?”

“Fair enough- shoot me a text tonight,” Natasha said.

“No Steve.”

“Just the three of us,” Natasha promised.

The rest of his workday went by smoothly. He got the signatures he needed for the multiple projects Tony had going on, tracking down everyone he needed to in order to make it happen. He signed off on details for a charity event Tony had put him in charge of, even though he had to report to Pepper to make sure he was doing everything correctly. He barely had time to think of the talk with Natasha, or about Clint for that matter.

He barely had time to notice some of the people talking about him that day. He noticed a few looks, a few turned heads, but it didn’t seem to matter as much. By the end of his workday he was so beat they could be saying he was a Russian spy for all he cared, all he wanted to do was get home and relax. So he checked in one last time with Pepper, one last time with Tony, who practically ignored him as he worked in the lab, and he went home.

It didn’t matter how many times Bucky got home to see Clint, every time was a new experience. Today’s welcome home was Clint watching a yoga instructional video, wearing a pair of Bucky’s shorts with no top. Clint averted his eyes from the screen to flash Bucky a warm smile before he looked back, muttering something about five minutes. Bucky sat down and removed his shoes, trying not to watch Clint as he worked through a few more stances.

“Want to try it with me?” he asked, and Bucky knew he had been caught.

“Not sure my balance will be good enough for it,” he admitted.

“Pft, nonsense. Come here. I’ll help, gorgeous.”

Bucky realized he was going to have a hard time saying no to that smile of Clint’s. He got up and walked closer and looked at the screen. He grunted at the pose and rose an eyebrow at Clint. Clint studied the screen before he used his foot to kick Bucky’s feet apart.

“Hey!”

“It’s all about modifying in order for it to work for you,” Clint said, ignoring Bucky’s protest. “You aren’t allowed to say you can’t do it when you can- just with tweaks.” Bucky opened his mouth to protest but Clint put a finger against Bucky’s lips. It took more strength than what Bucky cared to admit not to get that finger in his mouth. “Listen to me because it’s important, okay? You get this one life to do amazing things. And you are going to do them, Bucky. It might not be easy, you might have to modify how you do things to make them work for you- but you can do it.”

Bucky was silent for a moment before he pulled his head back. “Stop doing that.”

“Never,” Clint replied before he looked at the screen. “We going to do this or…?”

“Never in a million years.” Bucky answered easily. “How about dinner though? There’s this diner not too far away. The food is… absolutely amazing while probably being covered in ten pounds of grease.”

“Sounds appalling, let’s do it,” Clint answered. “Uh- I should probably change.”

“We should both probably change,” Bucky said, walking.

“You aren’t mad that I stole your clothes, right?” Clint asked, following Bucky down to his room. “I thought about seeing if I can snap a new outfit but I, uh-”

“You’re fine, Clint,” Bucky promised. “Hoodie?” He pulled one out and wiggled it. Clint nodded and caught it when Bucky tossed it. Bucky watched him turn it over a few times before he pulled it on and smiled brightly. He pointed his intentions before he left Bucky to change. Bucky changed as quickly as he could before he met Clint back. “So… ready?”

“Well, uhm, there are some rules,” Clint said hesitantly. “Either you need to pocket the watch, or if we leave it behind I’m going to kinda, uh, lose my hearing and any powers.”

Bucky frowned and walked around the table to grab the watch before he stuffed it in his pocket. “You lose your hearing?”

Clint nodded and started playing with his hair. “It was a bit ruined before I became a genie. Being like this means I can hear because, I mean, I guess I have to, right? In order to get the wishes right? But there was only one other person who let me out, and we went to a store but she left the watch behind. And once we got about a fifty yards away I couldn’t hear anymore. I couldn’t feel the magic and… I dunno. It was tricky.” He dropped his hands from playing with his hair to rubbing his arms.

“I have… so many questions, but first- horrible diner food,” Bucky said, grabbing his keys and opening the door.

“All the disgusting food,” Clint agreed, slipping by Bucky, this time brushing against him as he moved. Bucky smiled and locked the door before he followed Clint down. Clint opened the main door and held his breath.

“Anxious?” Bucky asked.

“Something like that,” Clint answered with a nervous smile. “Anticipation is kinda killing me,” he admitted. Bucky nodded and walked out, Clint close on his heels for a moment before he walked by his side. “How was work? Was it better?”

“It was busy,” Bucky answered. “Busy means I don’t have time to think. Pepper couldn’t sit there and train me today, so I basically ran around all day asking for signatures of different projects.”

“That had to be fun,” Clint commented as he looked around in the same awestruck way he had the day before.

“Which reminds me- you might have to meet another friend on Saturday,” Bucky said, chewing his lip. Clint glanced his way and smiled before he looked away. “Natasha- she’s my ex from before I went and joined the military. She wants to do a spa day of sorts. Manis and pedis.”

“Erm.” Clint stopped walking and grabbed Bucky’s hand to pull him to a stop. “Do, uh, do guys do that?”

“We sure as hell do if we like to,” Bucky answered. “If you aren’t comfortable with it-”

“No, I want to,” Clint interrupted hastily. “I mean, it sounds fun. Slightly weird but fun. Do we paint our nails?”

“I suppose if you want? I usually don’t,” Bucky answered. “You can say no, you know that, right? I’m not going to force you to go. I can tell Natasha you are busy.”

“Why does she want to meet me?” Clint asked, starting to walk again, dropping Bucky’s hand.

“Because my friends are weirdly protective of me, and Steve told her about you,” Bucky answered. Clint snorted and gave Bucky a look that screamed  _ you are precious _ , which only made Bucky’s face flush. “Steve got the impression we are dating. I told Natasha we aren’t because… because at some point you are leaving and the likelihood of us every meeting again were slim to none.”

“Ah.” Clint was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Bucky worried he had said the wrong thing before Clint sighed. “It’s not like you aren’t wrong. I guess I just… didn’t think of it that way. I am sorry, gorgeous, if I led you to believe something that isn’t possible.”

“You didn’t,” Bucky said weakly because he hadn’t, but Bucky’s mind let it wander that way regardless of how logic worked. “That is just how it happened. Anyway, she wants to meet you. Probably talk you into staying.”

“That should be a lovely conversation,” Clint said before he picked up a smile. “Will you indulge me in something tonight, master?” he asked, the words coming out so fluidly Bucky hadn’t even let the “master” part bother him. “I would like to see Central Park. I have never seen it, at least not in person. And this time of year seems like the perfect time to go.”

Bucky smiled because he again realized- there was absolutely no way he was going to be able to tell Clint no. “Sure, but food first. I am starving.”

Dinner at the diner was done quickly with the evening crowd. Bucky wasn’t sure who was more antsy being in the crowd, Clint’s eyes constantly scanning the crowd and inching closer to Bucky. They were only halfway through their meal that Bucky was pretty sure Clint would be crawling in his lap if he could, his knee pressed as close to Bucky as he could, their shoulders knocking into each other.

Bucky ordered coffee to go for the both of them before he paid. Once he was able to convince Clint to leave, he hopped the busy subway in order to get close to Central park. Clint was still anxious, holding both coffees without any complaint. Bucky had offered to hold his- it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to bracing himself without holding onto something on the subway system. But Clint refused, his body swaying with the movement of the train, not spilling a drop.

It wasn’t until they were decently away from the crowds that Clint seemed to relax. Bucky wanted to ask about it, but he figured he could wait until they were back in the apartment for the night. He took his coffee from Clint.

“Well, welcome to Central Park,” he said as they walked. “Drink your coffee before it gets too cold.”

“I’ve never had coffee before,” Clint admitted, bowing his head to sniff it. “Is it good?”

“Try it and you tell me,” Bucky answered before taking a drink from his. “Still hot enough where it is passable.”

Clint turned his cup around in his hands a few times before he took a sip. He waited a moment, his steps faltering, before his eyes widened and he took a longer drink. Bucky snorted at the reaction and waited for Clint.

“This. Is. Amazing!” he declared. “Oh man. Bucky.  _ Bucky _ .” Bucky was pretty sure if he were able, Clint would have melted into a puddle of happiness. “I have  _ got _ to see if I can make this a rule. Like… like… will grant wishes for coffee!”

Bucky nearly spit his own coffee out. Clint looked around, checking his surroundings before he snapped. Bucky nearly lost it when Clint’s, well, Bucky’s hoodie changed to have the same phrase spelled out on it, with a little picture of a coffee mug off to the side. The mischievous grin on Clint’s face made Bucky’s heart melt and he couldn’t help but to laugh.

“I’ll change it back,” Clint promised.

“No, I am pretty sure I will forever need that saying on this hoodie.” Bucky knocked into him before he walked. “Come on- it’s getting dark. We can’t stay out all night. You have to at least make it to the one bridge.”

“Okay but Bucky… I want more of this,” Clint said, following Bucky as he drank his coffee. “Is it expensive?”

“Not where we got it,” Bucky answered. “You go to an actual cafe and yeah. But they are also better.”

“They get  _ better _ ?” Clint asked in disbelief. “You lie,” he added with narrowed eyes.

“Maybe tomorrow I will come home with a fancy coffee for you,” Bucky teased. He pitched his empty container and watched as Clint practically chugged the rest of his before he pitched it as well. “You know- if you want to go to the Stark party, all you have to do is ask. You will likely have to hear a million different questions.”

“Depends on if you take the pocket watch or not,” Clint said. “You leave it at home, then I won’t hear a lick of conversation. Depending on the size of the party, it may be better that way.” His eyes flickered around the park.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

Clint pulled a face, contemplating if he wanted to answer the question. “Even… with working ears, focusing in a crowded room is hard for me,” he answered. “It’s not that big of a deal, of course, I will do anything you ask of me but I thought that-”

“Clint, breathe,” Bucky said. “If you would rather I leave it at home for the evening, then that is what I’ll do. But if you cannot hear, how are we going to communicate?”

Clint opened his mouth then closed it. “I… do not have an answer to that,” he admitted. “I can attempt to read your lips. If I focus hard enough, I can usually figure it out.” He sighed. “No, bring the watch. Communication would be easier.”

“We will think on it,” Bucky assured him.

They only made it another quarter of a mile before Clint grabbed Bucky’s hand and squeezed. Bucky smiled and looked over before he frowned. “Clint?” he asked. Clint was pale, his face covered in a thin layer of sweat. “Clint, are you-”

Clint let go of his hand and moved off to the side and vomited. Bucky grimaced and slowly walked over. Clint had a hand braced against a tree as he expelled the contents of his dinner. Bucky patted his back before he rubbed it soothingly.

It took far too long to get Clint home, having to stop three more times for Clint to get sick. Bucky was thankful two of those times Clint had at least found a trash and the last time he had made it into a bathroom. He was looking more miserable by the moment and Bucky began to worry if asking for Clint to be tangible was somehow ruining his health.

“Here,” Bucky said, holding out a glass of water. Clint looked up from the bathroom floor and took it with a grateful smile and took a sip before he leaned against the back wall. “Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” Clint answered hoarsely. “Stomach is still in knots.” He closed his eyes. “I haven’t felt sick in… a very long time. I’m not sure if I should feel honored or miserable,” he joked lamely. “I am so sorry, master.”

“Stop with the master bit, and it’s not your fault,” Bucky said, sitting down next to him. “I didn’t consider that the food might upset your stomach. It was the food, correct?”

“It sure as hell better not have been the coffee,” Clint replied before he leaned over, resting against Bucky instead. “I need to move. You need to shower and go to bed,” he murmured tiredly. “You have work tomorrow.”

“Here, I’ve got a few minutes,” Bucky said, encouraging him to lay down. With his head in Bucky’s lap, Clint curled his legs up and closed his eyes. Bucky hesitated before his hand slowly started to brush Clint’s hair back, still damp. “I’ve got you,” he whispered.

“Of course you do,” Clint murmured. He laid still for a few minutes, Bucky’s hand traveling lower to his shoulders and his arm before finding it’s way way to Clint’s back. He traced the muscles he could feel and he took a deep breath before he looked at the ceiling. “You need to shower,” Clint weakly protested.

“Only if you feel well enough to climb into bed. I can’t carry you.”

Clint rested for another few minutes before he pulled himself up. He took a deep breath before he drank a few more sips of the water and stood up on shaky legs. Bucky followed him up and picked up the glass, following Clint closely until he was sure the blond was settled well enough in bed that he wasn’t in danger of falling.

Once satisfied, Bucky set the glass on the nightstand before he grabbed a change of clothing and took his shower. By the time he had some back, Clint seemed fast asleep, his breathing sounding a little rough still. Bucky climbed in behind him and curled his body against Clint’s and waited, but Clint never stirred.

“You really think you can have coffee?” Bucky asked when he got home from work.

Clint was nodding eagerly. “It was the greasy food! Coffee isn’t going to betray me that way! And I ate other food today! I used the toaster!” he declared proudly, a dazzling smile on his face. “I made toast, and I put butter and cheese on them and it was amazing,” he further explained. “And not a single time did my stomach churn. So! Give me, master.” 

Clint was doing the grabby hands motion before Bucky relented, faking an exasperated sigh. Clint took the cup and just as he had the day before, he was turning it in his hands before he took a sip. Bucky had promised a better coffee, after all, and he fully intended to deliver on that promise. And from the way Clint’s eyes lit up after the first sip, it sure as hell was worth it.

“They  _ do _ get better,” he whispered in awe. He looked up at Bucky. “You can get this everyday?”

“If I wanted to, and could afford to,” Bucky snorted. “Seven bucks for a coffee-”

“What?” Clint asked dramatically before he hugged the cup to his chest. “I will make it last. That’s insane. Wait, it’s insane, right?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and walked to the back to change. “It’s not  _ that _ insane. Drink your coffee, Clint.” 

Bucky sat in his bedroom for a minute after he changed. He knew what he wanted his next wish to be, but the nerves around asking for it was leaving him unsettled. He wanted to space out his wishes more, make them last so he didn’t have to let all of this go. But this wish- it was something he figured Clint could easily give, and it was something that could improve his life dramatically should Clint be able to pull it off. 

Knowing he only would have one more wish left was a problem. What if he wished for something without meaning to? Like he had done with the sleeping without nightmares bit. Or what if something more important came up so quickly that he wouldn’t have a proper chance of saying goodbye? Then there was the problem that Bucky didn’t want to say goodbye at all. He wanted to keep the excitable man in his life for as long as he could because even if Clint was cheerful because he felt he had to be, he was still making Bucky feel lighter. That morning waking up to a sleepy, cuddly and warm Clint was the same as the first time- it was something he wished he could capture in a photograph so he could always remember it.

“Master?” Bucky looked up and Clint was standing in the doorway, his hands holding onto the doorframe. “Is something wrong?” he asked and Bucky watched the concern growing. “Was it another bad day?”

“No, it’s just… I know what I want my next wish to be,” Bucky answered. “It’s a big deal if it can happen. A little life altering. And the thought of it is a little unnerving.”

Clint walked in and sat down next to Bucky, their shoulders pressed together. “Alright- would you like to talk it through?” He had taken a shower, used Bucky’s shampoo and soaps and Bucky wasn’t sure if that made him feel any better or worse.

“I know Stark is working on an arm design for me,” Bucky admitted. “When I went to see him, he had the schematics up. He said something just wasn’t right, that he didn’t want to even attempt a trial if he couldn’t get it down perfectly.”

Clint leaned against Bucky. “You want to wish for him to solve the arm problem,” Clint guessed. “The chances of him figuring it out are high, Bucky. The guy  _ is _ a genius.”

“Yeah, but if he could figure it out faster,” Bucky argued gently. “I just think it may be the confidence I need. It would change… it could change everything.”

Clint nodded and thought about it. “How about this? What if you wished… for him to find the perfect design instead of the perfect fix?” Clint offered. “It would be the best of both worlds. If I gave you the wish you are requesting, that is only the tip of the iceberg. There could be flaws, multiple prototypes. But if the design all around is perfect, you have more of a chance at not having to be a lab rat for as long.”

“I would only have one more wish left,” Bucky pointed out.

“In all fairness, your wishes have been… across the board,” Clint laughed. “Wishing me to be tangible was probably the oddest one yet.”

Bucky couldn’t explain to him how wishing Clint tangible was the most perfect wish he had made, and probably could ever make. He could admit it to himself, but admitting it out loud? That was something he couldn’t yet do.

“Want to give it a shot?” Clint asked. Bucky hesitated before he nodded. “Okay. One perfect arm, coming right on up,” Clint said. He rubbed his hands together, clearly thinking about how he needed to word the wish before he snapped. Bucky looked down just as Clint turned his wrist over. “And another wish made. Congrats, gorgeous. Soon enough you’ll have a new arm. Not the same, probably will still have phantom pains, but it will be workable.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said before laying back.

“What are you thanking me for?” Clint asked, turning around to watch him curiously.

“This is the second wish you have helped me figure out what I want,” Bucky answered. “You talked me out of a bad one when you didn’t have to, and now this. It’s kind of- I mean, it’s-” Bucky closed his eyes. “I guess thank you for caring enough to look out for me.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open when Clint moved, a hand coming down to his hair. He had a hint of a smile, his features soft. “Yeah well- seeing you happy has benefitted me too. You are kind of my favorite wisher.”

There was a moment Bucky had thought  _ screw it, I’m going to kiss him _ ; he even leaned up a little as if he were prepared. But then the bold, dark reminder on Clint’s wrist was enough for him to swallow back his feelings again. One more wish- the last reminder that Bucky couldn’t have something he wanted to at least attempt to make his.

“Come on- we need to go eat,” Clint said before he got up. He had looked a little disappointed for a moment and Bucky was trying not to think about that. Bucky complied and stood up, following Clint. “Try to pick something that won’t leave me sick all night,” he teased as he stuffed his feet into well worn shoes.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll see what I can do,” Bucky sighed.

Bucky chose something easier on Clint’s stomach for the night. He opted to eat at home, bringing the food back so the two could sit on the couch and watch television. Or, rather, try to. Clint was doing a remarkable job watching the show while Bucky opted to watch Clint for signs of illness.

“I’ve got a question,” Bucky said after an hour. Clint averted his eyes from the screen to look Bucky’s way. “If we left the pocket watch at home, is there any real threat of a long term negative impact?”

“Come again?” Clint asked, turning his body to face Bucky.

“Like if we leave it here and we are gone for hours… what does it do to you?” Bucky asked.

Clint frowned a little and looked down at his hands, a little more interested in them than watching Bucky. “Depends on the length. I am fine for a good amount of time. I would say if it is more than a day it wouldn’t be very good.”

“As in…?” Bucky watched Clint, who seemed hesitant on revealing any secrets.

Clint licked his lips and glanced up. “The longer I am away from that the more of all of this I lose,” Clint said, waving his hands at himself. “The longest I lasted before I got sucked back in and forced into isolation was four days. It starts with physical symptoms- chills, throwing up, body aches and weakness. And then the mental symptoms start. Craving going back to the person, the item, the- the need to  _ appease _ someone. And then there is the rapid aging.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Why did you stay away for four days?”

The dark look was back in Clint’s eyes and Bucky felt unnerved by it, shifting his weight away from Clint. “Because I was not going to grant the wish he wanted me to carry out. Because the lashes hurt like hell the more I heard the request and refused to do it. So I ran for it. And I thought maybe it was going to be okay. By day four I was nearly crawling back, begging to grant that wish. And I did.”

“Shit,” Bucky said.

Clint snorted. “Shit,” he agreed easily. He sighed and looked back down, shuffling his feet. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered. “Past what I said, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I doubt any wish I can come up with is going to make you want to run for the hills,” Bucky offered.

Clint chuckled and looked up. He looked uneasy still, unsure of how he should react. He took a deep breath. “So… Saturday?”

“Yeah, so I was thinking-” Bucky began before his phone went off. He pulled it out of his pocket. “It’s Tony-”

Clint’s eyes lit up and he nudged Bucky. “Answer it. Come on.”

Bucky nodded and hesitated. Clint nudged him again, encouraging him further. Bucky answered his phone and stepped away to have the conversation. He glanced over to watch Clint, who was simply standing there, watching Bucky with anticipation. Bucky gave him a weak yet reassuring smile before he tucked the phone between his head and shoulder and gave Clint a thumbs up. The noise that escaped Clint was easily one of the cutest things Bucky had ever heard and it made his heart soar more than the prospect of his new arm. It was pure excitement, uncontained and unguarded. He did a little dance in his spot and it made it hard to focus on what Tony was saying. He had to look away to finish his conversation before he lost all focus.

It took several minutes for Bucky to get off the phone with Tony. The moment he turned back to Clint the other man was hugging him in the tightest hug, Bucky’s feet lifting from the floor. He couldn’t keep back the gasp of surprise as Clint spun them around. 

“Tell me everything!” Clint said the moment he set Bucky back down.

“He said he thinks he got it all right,” Bucky explained. “He used a lot of scientific terms that I have no idea about but tomorrow for my work hours he wants me in his lab. Fitting, programming- all these things.”

“Are you nervous?” Clint asked

“I could throw up,” Bucky admitted. “How the hell does that magic work?”

“Hell if I know, I don’t even  _ like _ magic,” Clint laughed. He vaulted over the back of the couch before he plopped down. “A new arm. I wonder what that is going to be like.” Bucky circled around and sat down next to him. “Hey! Does this make you a cyborg?”

Bucky thought about it before he nodded. “Yeah, I think it does.”

Clint got a dopey smile on his face, not looking his way. “When the robots take over… put in a good word for me.” Bucky laughed and reached across to shove Clint, who only laughed. “What would robot wishes be? More oil? More coding? Oh  _ god _ , don’t say computer coding. I don’t even understand it.”

“You’re an idiot,” Bucky said with a grin as he flipped stations.

“Yeah, well, you are stuck with this idiot for a little while longer,” Clint shot back lightheartedly.

“Could be worse,” Bucky answered.

Bucky tried not to move when Clint leaned against him, his head knocking against Bucky’s. Bucky could feel the couch shifting as Clint made himself comfortable. “So- what are we watching tonight?” he asked.

“Whatever you want,” Bucky answered.

Bucky’s whole Friday was spent with Tony. From the moment he walked into work, he was dragged to the lab, laying on the table so he could watch and listen to Tony work. He had to gently remind Tony that they needed to take breaks because once Tony’s mind was whirling, it didn’t stop until he was exhausted. It was exciting, nerve wracking, and tiresome. But Tony didn’t give up, so Bucky didn’t want to give up either.

Bucky called it quits a quarter after midnight. Mentally he couldn’t take anymore, and physically he was falling asleep on the table. With promises of coming back in about six hours, Bucky slunk his way back to the apartment, bone-weary and in need of a shower. Bucky peeked into the bedroom and found Clint already asleep, his eyebrows pulled together as if he were having a bad dream. Unsure what to do with that, he let the man be as he took a quick shower. By the time he made it back into the bedroom, Clint looked more peaceful and Bucky elicited a soft sigh from the man when he had laid down next to him. As if pulled by a magnetic field, Clint rolled over and looped an arm around Bucky, his nose pressed against the back of his neck. It was so painfully familiar now that it lulled Bucky right to sleep.

For the first time in nearly a week Bucky had woken up to a nightmare. He hadn’t thrashed about, he wasn’t even sure he had moved at all. He gasped in a breath, his eyes snapping open and he tried to remember who was in his bed. Stirring just a little, Clint’s arm became a vice to keep him contained, pulling Bucky closer as he snuggled in close. He was murmuring something, every time his lips brushed against Bucky’s skin little waves of pleasure floated down to his stomach. His brain was caught somewhere before the need to get up and walk off the post-dream stress and the need to stay wrapped in Clint’s warmth, letting it soak into his skin and soothe his worries.

“Mhhh- gorgeous,” Clint greeted lazily, his legs stretching out, his feet running down Bucky’s legs; he arched his back, pressing his chest against Bucky before he moved away. “Nhh, you okay?” he asked tiredly and Bucky laid flat on his back in time to watch Clint rub his face.

“Just a bad dream,” Bucky answered. He gave himself a minute to observe the way the sun made Clint’s skin glow warm and bright before he forced himself out of bed. “I have to go back to work. We got so close last night. I might even be able to use the arm today.”

“ ‘tasha.”

“What’s that?” Bucky asked as he collected a fresh set of clothes.

“You have a mani-pedi date with Natasha and I this morning,” Clint answered, sitting up. Bucky froze before he looked back at Clint. Those groggy eyes finally landed on Bucky and he flashed him a nervous smile. “You… can’t go.”

“I’ll call her and explain, I am sure she’ll understand,” Bucky said, rushing to change his clothes. It wasn’t until he was halfway done pulling his pants up that he realized he was changing in front of Clint. He felt the heat creeping into his face as he chanced a glance, but Clint had his face averted, opting to look out the window instead. There was a look of disappointment there, quietly under the surface and Bucky had to stop and think as he finished getting dressed. “You… can still go,” Bucky said. “I have money in this drawer here- you can take it with you. Have a spa day with Natasha.”

“I really shouldn’t take your money, master,” Clint said before he looked over.

Bucky hesitated before he pulled the money out and held it out to Clint. Sure, it was his emergency savings, and more than what Clint needed to pay for a spa day with Natasha, but he could always save more. “I insist. You are more than worth it.”

The blush that plastered itself across Clint’s cheeks made all the messy feelings from the past few days crawl back into Bucky’s mind. He stood up and took the money with more than just a moment’s thought, as if he were too scared to even believe this was happening.

“We… will have a slight problem on our hands,” Clint admitted. Bucky frowned as Clint shuffled his feet. “I won’t be able to hear a word Natasha says.”

“So take the pocket watch with you,” Bucky chuckled. “Not that hard to figure out, Clint.”

“I can’t.” Clint had said it with a level of nervousness that Bucky stopped before he could pick up his socks. “We are forbidden to touch the items we possess. Something about a genie that did and broke his own item, thus… ending his contract.”

“Do… I want to know what that means?” Bucky asked hesitantly. Clint only shook his head. “Alright… you sure you want to go?”

Clint shuffled his feet. “I’ve never had a spa day before. It sounds… relaxing.”

That was all Bucky had to hear to know that was Clint’s subtle way of saying he really wanted to go. “So when you get there tell her you forgot your hearing aids. Or that you forgot to charge them.”

“Which leads to another problem,” Clint said. “Tonight, at the party. Your friend Tony will be there, yes?”

“Well, it is  _ his _ party,” Bucky answered.

“What if he asks to see these hearing aids that I don’t possess?” Clint started playing with his shirt, tangling his fingers into the fabric.

“Tell him removing them in a public setting makes you self-conscious. If he offers to do it privately there, tell him you don’t exactly take enjoyment out of being alone with people you hardly know in a compromised position,” Bucky answered before he grabbed his socks and walked out to the living room. “Again, you don’t have to go.”

“What if I want to go?” Clint asked, following Bucky. He leaned over the back of the couch.

“I think you’ll figure something out,” Bucky assured him. “I’ll let Natasha know it’s just you. I’ll ask her if she can pick you up here and that you forgot your hearing aids at home. Think you can pretend not to hear her when she gets here?”

Clint looked a little more confident at that. “Please, I am practically a pro,” he bragged. “You are sure you are okay with this, Bucky?”

“More than.” Bucky slipped his shoes on. “Wish me luck. If everything goes well… well…” Clint snorted and Bucky felt himself scrambling. “No! Do  _ not _ wish me luck. Don’t you dare.” Clint was laughing by now, his shoulders shaking as he tried to mask it the best he could. “You’re an ass.”

Clint nodded, waving Bucky off. “Guess I’ll see you sometime before the party then.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Bucky said. “Alright, have fun with Natasha. Paint your nails if you want. It’s 2019- if people judge you for it, then fuck’em.”

“That is… quite the opposite of what I would do to them, master but hell- if you insist.”

Bucky stopped as he opened the door and looked at Clint and his smirk. “... see, I have a problem telling if you are kidding right now or not,” he managed to say.

“Go to work, get that arm,” Clint laughed before he winked. “I am going to con Natasha into taking me for coffee.”

Bucky shot Natasha a quick text before he headed to work, his stomach in knots again. Not only did he have to worry about the arm project, making sure he was following Tony’s instructions, but he was also worried about Clint. Natasha could be… a lot. He should have warned Clint that Natasha had the ability to peer into someone’s soul and make them squeamish; or that she had this ability to make you talk about things you would have rather not discussed.

After an hour with no texts of phone calls, Bucky began to relax. It was  _ Clint _ . That guy had a charming midwestern smile that could melt hearts for all Bucky could figure out. He was pretty sure if he had fallen so hopeless for the guy that he was afraid of making another wish just in order to keep him around for a little longer, Natasha would fall for his charm enough not to be a pain in the ass. The thought of Clint and Natasha becoming friends actually brought a smile to Bucky’s face; it would be a mistake, letting them become friends if Clint would be able to stay, but he could picture the two bonding over torturing Bucky.

Once he was able to calm down, focusing on the task at hand was easy. It helped that Tony actually knocked him upside the head and demanded that he pay attention. And then it turned into a game of sorts, and Bucky liked being able to push his limits. It was a slow process, but the arm fit like a glove, even if the weight of it was going to take getting used to. And so far the most Bucky had managed to do was make his fingers twitch on command, one at a time, and roll his wrist. While those seemed like small accomplishments, and took a hell of a lot of energy out of him, it was a major stride according to Tony.

He was able to leave the lab feeling accomplished. Tony opted to keep the arm for now, which Bucky wasn’t even mad about since he couldn’t fully use it yet anyway. They would pick back up work Monday, if Pepper allowed it. Bucky wasn’t sure who she was going to be more firm with- Tony needing to run his company, or Bucky, who needed to learn to do his work without encouraging Tony’s whims. In the end, if he were to wager a bet, he was going to go with it being easier to wrangle Bucky in than it ever would be wrangling Tony in.

He picked up coffee on the way home, because of course he did- he was becoming addicted to that sun shining smile Clint shared with him. He should be mentally preparing himself for a goodbye, should be putting his guards up and figuring out the last wish he wanted to make; but then he remembered the cheer of happiness Clint shouted when Bucky learned about his new arm, the dance he had done. He remembered the way his face lit up over a simple three buck cup of coffee, and even more when he tried the more expensive one. He remembered the innocence and the softness of every early morning wake up when Clint was still fast asleep, and the protectiveness in saying no when Bucky was making a bad decision. 

“Hey- how was your day?” Bucky asked when he got home, all smiles until he caught Clint’s face.

Clint was sitting by the window, one knee pulled up while the other leg was tucked under it. He was leaning against the wall, looking quite pensive as he stared outside. He displayed a serious face while keeping it perfectly blank. Bucky felt his walls going up as he set the coffees down before he could close the door and lock it.

“Make a wish,” Clint whispered.

“Clint-”

“Make a wish and end this. Please.” He sounded so small, so weak and that’s when he caught the tears threatening to spill over.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, walking over. Clint shook his head just enough for Bucky to tell he didn’t want to talk about it. “Clint, please- if you don’t tell me I can’t fix it.”

“You can’t fix it regardless, whether I tell you or not,” Clint answered before he looked up. “Please, master- Bucky, make your last wish. I can’t-”

“Not until you tell me,” Bucky said firmly, sinking down to sit with Clint. He reached out and touched Clint’s arm, his heart racing when Clint jerked away from the touch. A protectiveness overcame him suddenly. The only person Clint had seen all day was Natasha, and somehow between the time Bucky had left and came back, something in Clint had broken. “What did she do?” Bucky asked with a growl.

Clint closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly before he ducked his head, not bothering to wipe away the tears as they fell. “Nothing. She was perfect.”

“What did she say? What did she do? Did she hurt you?” Bucky demanded, his voice carrying louder than he had intended.

“Please, calm down. Mrs. Vitech will hear,” Clint urged.

“If she hurt you-”

“She told me you loved me.” Bucky felt like he had been punched in the gut. He couldn’t breathe even if he tried. Clint looked over and licked his lips. “Tell me she is wrong. Tell me she misunderstood how you have felt and that there is nothing. Please.”

Bucky finally took a breath. “I cannot.”

“Bucky, you don’t understand,” Clint stressed, turning more, his hands grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt. “You can’t- please tell me she is wrong.”

“I’m not going to outright lie to you,” Bucky said weakly. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”

Clint’s hands loosened their grip as they slid down Bucky’s chest and he leaned forward, pressing his head against Bucky’s shoulder and letting out a choked back sob. Bucky wasn’t aware that he had started crying until Clint was already curling himself around Bucky. He wrapped his arm around Clint and pulled him as close to him as Clint would allow. Every cry, every heave of Clint’s chest as it rattled made the pit in Bucky’s stomach grow, his heart breaking more by the second.

He could have handled this if it were just himself- Bucky was used to hurting himself and building himself back up. He would have been fine never telling Clint how he felt. But watching Clint fall apart was something Bucky wasn’t sure he could take much longer.  _ He doesn’t deserve this _ Bucky thought, trying to soothe away the hurt he had caused the man in his arm. He wasn’t ready for this- this wasn’t how he wanted to say goodbye; it was too rushed, and his mind was scrambling to come up with a wish.

Clint’s breath came back as a hiccup and he sat back, wiping his face with the palms of his hands. His eyes were rimmed red, his lips swollen and face splotchy- he wasn’t a pretty crier, yet all Bucky wanted to do was kiss him, try to reassure him everything was going to be okay even though they both knew it wouldn’t be.

“This isn’t fair,” Clint said softly, leaning back against the wall, his body sagging. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, face turned to the ceiling. “This isn’t fair,” he repeated with more intensity before reeling himself back.

They sat in companionable silence for a little longer. Bucky needed to think about what he wanted to say, and Clint took the time to slow his rapid breathing, his cries becoming sniffles before long. Bucky could see Clint wiping off his face with his sleeve, struggling to keep himself under control at first until he stared blankly ahead.

“I will make a wish tomorrow,” Bucky promised. “Clint, you have to believe me when I say that I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything. I wanted to hang onto this feeling as much as possible. Hang on to you for as long as I could.”

Clint looked over at Bucky and gave him a weak smile. “You wanted to hang on to me,” he said slowly, as if he couldn’t believe the words.

“It’s stupid, I know,” Bucky sighed. “I have to go- I have that party.”

“We have that party,” Clint answered, though it was apparent he didn’t want to get up. “I forgot about the party.”

Bucky stared at Clint. “You still want to go?”

“You would pity me if I admitted to the last time I was permitted to attend a party. We’re just going to skip that detail,” Clint said as he stood. He reached down and Bucky grabbed onto his hand as Clint helped him up. “We’ll… talk about all this mess later?”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky agreed. “Let’s just… get through tonight, okay?”

Clint nodded and looked past Bucky. “You brought me coffee.”

“I like the way your face lights up when you get to try new coffee,” Bucky admitted. Clint chewed his lip before he cracked a smile. “Yeah, almost like that but better. This one is flavored. Caramel.”

“They make them in  _ flavors _ ?” Clint asked, nearly running for the cup. He picked it up and turned it around in his hands before he drank it. “I haven’t tasted caramel since I was a child. This is- no, I am not going to cry again.” He chugged most of his coffee, making blissful little sighs whenever he lowered the cup and swallowed.

“You can have mine if you want it,” Bucky offered. “I’m not a fan of lukewarm coffee.”

“I am a fan of coffee no matter what they do to it,” Clint informed cheerfully.

“So did you look up steampunk?” Bucky asked, hoping to stay on this new topic.

“Stay- no moving,” Clint commanded and Bucky’s steps faltered as he headed back towards the bedroom. “I want to try something. It’s not a wish, so it won’t count. View it as a bonus.” Clint rolled his sleeves up for extra dramatics which Bucky felt obligated to roll his eyes at. Clint waggled his eyebrows before he snapped.

Unlike most times Clint snapped, Clint hadn’t changed at all. Instead, Bucky felt his clothes change and he looked down before stumbling back, unsure of what he was seeing. It was better than anything he could have found by himself in that thrift store, right down to the spats. He looked up to watch a smug looking Clint blow air onto his nails then wipe them on his changed outfit.

“Well don’t you look dapper,” Clint complimented.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered, checking over the outfit again. “ _ Shit _ . This looks good.”

“Indeed, gorgeous,” Clint agreed with an unabashed smirk. “I, uh, well, you might want some help with that sleeve. I can help pin it up, I mean?” he said, his smirk weavering for a moment. “I think we are slightly past fashionably late at this point.”

It took some time for Clint to pin the loose sleeve into place, but it gave them both time to breathe and took the attention away from their previous discussion. When he got the sleeve pinned the way he liked Clint flashed Bucky the most satisfying smile before he picked up Bucky’s mug of coffee to drink it along the way. Despite it being a little more than embarrassing hopping on the subway system in order to get out to the party, people staring at their costumes and even a few trying to sneakily take their pictures, Clint looked over with a reassuring smile and that helped settle Bucky’s nerves a fraction. It didn’t help that whenever Clint caught someone taking a picture he would wink- Bucky wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at the amount of people Clint had made blush, or be jealous they were getting the attention Bucky wanted.

“Well, at least you’ll know Natasha and Steve,” Bucky said when they arrived just outside the party.

“It’s going to be fine,” Clint said with more confidence than what Bucky could offer. “You know far more people here than I do, gorgeous. Just smile and be in the moment. And if you forget about me and leave me, just remember- I know where you sleep at night.”

“So terrifying,” Bucky taunted before he felt Clint’s hand come around his. He looked down. “You sure you want to do this? Fully knowing the rumors?”

“I think I’ll find a way to survive,” Clint answered, his smile slipping a hair. “And no master talk, master. Let me get it out of me right here, right now.”

Bucky laughed and tugged him forward. “You’re an idiot.”

“I am most certainly something,” Clint acknowledged as they walked into the party.

Bucky’s friends were much more relaxed about Clint being there than what Bucky would have imagined. Out of everyone, Bucky thought for sure Steve was going to be the first one to make a comment, straight out of the gate to set Bucky’s mood for the night. However, Steve greeted them both with a smile, opting to shake Clint’s hand before hugging Bucky loosely. Sam greeted them both with a smile and handshakes. 

Natasha, however, greeted both of them with a well placed kiss on the cheek, Clint leaning down and in for it with a delighted smile. Clint made a joke about at least remembering his hearing aids for the party, though he had carefully commented that sometimes the noise became a little overwhelming. Bucky assumed it was a way for him to pick and choose when he wanted to talk so he didn’t say anything too outlandish. If Clint wasn’t at Bucky’s side throughout the night, he was seen with Natasha; and just as Bucky suspected, they would have made great friends if Clint could stay.

_ No, we aren’t thinking about that right now _ Bucky had to remind himself. His eyes flickered over to Clint, his head tipped back as he laughed at something Steve had said before he looked at Sam. If there was a trace of sadness, Bucky was having a hard time picking up on it. Clint’s eyes found Bucky’s and he shot him a warm smile and a little wave before Steve caught his attention again.

“I feel like I owe you an apology,” Natasha said, walking over and extending a drink to Bucky. “When Clint and I were talking, I was under the impression that he knew your feelings. I might have… set him on edge.”

“We talked, and we are talking more tomorrow,” Bucky informed her. He tossed back the drink all in one go and Natasha whistled. “He was upset- it was horrible seeing him like that. I felt like the world’s biggest asshole. I still maintain it was for his own good.”

“Maybe. But that’s not for you to decide for him,” Natasha pointed out before she leaned against Bucky and followed his gaze. Tony had showed up just then and was talking to Clint about who knew what. Clint was handling it with the same charming smile he had plastered on since they walked into the building. “Anyone who can handle a drunk Stark is worth fighting for,” Natasha added.

“Should I be scared for him?” Bucky asked. “Should I go rescue him or-”

“He doesn’t seem the type who needs to be rescued very often.” Natasha wasn’t wrong. Bucky knew Tony could get flirty when drunk, get a little too touchy. And while it made Bucky feel like glaring daggers at Tony, Clint seemed to handle it in a well practiced stride. “I wish he could stay, Bucky. I think he is good for you. That’s all I will say,” Natasha said before she kissed his cheek. “Try to enjoy the party. He is.”

Bucky let Clint mingle uninterrupted for some time, realizing the other man craved this sort of attention. He certainly didn’t seem bothered by Bucky not hovering around him because every time Bucky caught a glimpse of Clint he was holding his own like he knew everyone for years. Natasha had been right, Clint really was enjoying the party. He talked with some people Bucky hadn’t even spoken to before, and he worked with them.

It wasn’t until Bucky was ready to go that Clint found him as if on cue. “You will never guess what Steve did,” he said, chirping away the words.

“Am I going to have to murder the punk?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all- I rather like him,” Clint answered. “No, he gave me the shovel talk.” Bucky felt a lump in his throat instantly and he tried to swallow it back before Clint could take notice. “I have never had the shovel talk before. It’s amusing that he thinks he can take me on.”

“Yeah… yeah, the punk is good about starting fights,” Bucky admitted.

Clint’s smile dropped again and he leaned closer and touched Bucky’s hand. “You want to leave?” he asked. “It’s been a few hours.” Bucky only answered with a nod. “Make your rounds with me then; let’s say goodbye and not be rude.”

Bucky followed instructions, making his way around the party with Clint by his side or hot on his heels. Tony practically flung himself onto Clint, telling him how much he was going to miss him and that he needed to come back to get proper Stark Tech hearing aids. Once Clint was able to delicately pry Tony away and pawn him off to the next person, they found Sam and Steve together. Steve gave Clint a very pointed look and Bucky couldn’t resist jabbing him in the ribs for it. While sputtering to Bucky, Clint smiled, his teeth grazing over his bottom lip. Natasha gave them both a kiss on the cheek and wished them a good night. Her hand lingered on Bucky’s a moment longer, her eyes searching Bucky. He only responded to the open question with a nod. 

“Can we take a walk by the pier?” Clint asked once they were away from the noise. “On the way back from the subway- there is a stop I’d like to take if you’d indulge me.”

“What is that?” Bucky asked.

“I want to see the Statue of Liberty,” Clint answered. “Doesn’t matter from where, and I know it’s getting late.”

“Yeah, of course- we should probably change first,” Bucky suggested. “It is getting late and I don’t think I want to get mugged while in this outfit.”

“You are forgetting- magic fingers,” Clint said, his fingers wiggling in the air at Bucky. “We find a quiet spot, no people on the way to the subway, and I’ll change us both. I wouldn’t want anyone hurting that beautiful face of yours, gorgeous.”

True to his word, as soon as Clint found a public restroom, he pulled them both in to change their clothes. Bucky snorted at Clint’s purple hoodie, donning the same saying on it that Bucky’s grey hoodie at home said- Will Grant Wishes for Coffee. With a mischievous grin, Clint grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled them along.

As soon as they were on the subway, Clint’s smile faded and he turned much more taciturn. He stared mostly at the floor, his body slumped over and resting against Bucky. Bucky let his thumb rub Clint’s hand lightly as he kept track of where they were on the subway system, ignoring any looks from passengers.

He almost would have rather gone home for the night, exhausted from the long day. But Clint had requested a look at the famed icon of New York, and Bucky wasn’t able to tell him no- not when he didn’t know when or if Clint would ever get this opportunity again. So with a late night stroll, they finally made it to Brooklyn Bridge Park and Bucky found the spot he considered the best to view the statue from on this side of the bridge. Clint had let go of his hand the moment he caught sight of the statue, his pace picking up until he was leaning against a rail to get a closer look. Bucky followed behind him dutifully, keeping an eye out on their surroundings.

“I always wanted to see her in person,” Clint whispered. “I remember hearing about her being delivered to America- I was in France at the time.” His expression had softened considerably. “I remember everything she stood for at the time- what she still means to this nation. Or what she should I suppose. She was that gateway into this country from these shores- hard to miss and inspiring hope. And I just… I always wanted to see that with my own eyes. Think of what it was like being greeted by her when you are coming from the old country, hoping to make it here in the states. A new chance.”

“Didn’t take you for being a sap,” Bucky said after a minute.

Clint chuckled and ducked his head before he looked back up at the statue. “Freedom. I don’t think you can really be a sap about the prospect of freedom, can you?” he asked before he looked at Bucky.

Bucky felt like he should be apologizing. Of course Clint would relate it to freedom, something he didn’t have. There were no new chances for him, no escape like what Ellis Island had brought many people for centuries. Bucky opened his mouth for the apology but came up short when Clint pulled him over and kissed him. It was feather light, not rushed in any way, and it made that black hole in Bucky’s stomach dissolve.

“Thank you,” Clint said with a sad smile. “Because no matter what gets said tomorrow, no matter what wish you make- you gave me a taste of that freedom again. And it’s been nothing short of amazing.”

Bucky felt stunned, glued to his spot. He watched Clint closely, his eyes flickering down to Clint’s lips and back up. Clint smiled and pulled him in for another kiss, this one a little timid to start before Bucky pushed for more, then it became a little more desperate and passionate.

“I think we need to go home,” Bucky said, breathless.

“I think you might be right,” Clint agreed.

Bucky couldn’t sleep, opting to stay up and watch Clint, whose head was currently on Bucky’s lap, and arm coming across his thighs in an attempt to hold him in place. Bucky was surprised he was able to get into a seated position with how clingy Clint became when he was sound asleep. Clint sighed and turned his face, his nose brushed against boxers as his arm tightened around Bucky before he would relax again. This was the fifth time that night that Clint’s dreams had disturbed his sleep, even though he wouldn’t wake.

Bucky could count the times Clint murmured in his sleep, most incoherent minus a few words here and there that didn’t make sense without any context. A few times he had heard his own name, which brought a smile to Bucky’s face. He could tell you that Clint liked one foot kicked out from the blankets at all times, but otherwise he liked to stay almost cocooned in the warmth. Occasionally he would become semi-awake, murmuring to Bucky about how he needed to go back to sleep before he would drift back off. One time it was hard to convince Clint that all he was doing was using the bathroom, which then prompted Clint to have to use it directly after. Unlike Bucky, he fell back asleep with no ideas.

There were scars that he hadn’t noticed before, etched into defined muscles stretching from his shoulder to his hips. A few looked like they would have hurt like hell and Bucky wondered how some were even achieved The one he was surprised he had never noticed before until last night was the small scar just above the left side of his lip, which ended before picking back up through his eyebrow. It seemed like something he should have caught before. 

Last night was both the most magical day Bucky had ever had while still being the most bittersweet. There was a brief moment right after they had sex that Bucky thought he was going to start panicking- that he had made a mistake and this was only going to prolong the grieving period. But the love drunk look on Clint’s face, the way his hand still traveled over Bucky’s body as if lazily committing every curve and shape to memory had stopped Bucky. Afterall, Bucky was still going to be able to live, maybe find someone new and move on with his life. Clint had more of a reason to be a wreck and yet he seemed content in the moment.

Bucky knew what he wanted his last wish to be. He made the decision somewhere between the third time Clint murmured Bucky’s name in a dream and the time he had nuzzled his nose against Bucky’s boxers with tightly squeezed eyes before the softest sign escaped and he went boneless again. He didn’t know if the wish was even possible, but he was going to have to try it nonetheless.

“You are staring again,” Clint murmured groggily. Bucky hadn’t realized Clint woke up at some point, the hazy look told him it couldn’t have been for too long. Clint took a deep breath before he rolled off of Bucky and stretched himself out. There was a soft, sleepy smile plastered on his face. “Heh- I’m wearing your boxers,” he said softly. “Tiny ducks.”

“You tell anyone I own those and I’ll kill you,” Bucky threatened without any heat.

“Mhhh, softie,” Clint teased lazily.

Bucky felt his heart rate picking up as he leaned over Clint and kissed him yet again. It was a lazy, tired kiss, slow and lax. Clint’s hands touched Bucky’s waist before his fingers sprawled across his hips in an attempt to pull him in. Bucky knew he had to do it- it was now or never.

“I wish for you to be free,” Bucky whispered against Clint’s lips.

“Wish for something else,” Clint replied, his body tensing.

Bucky ducked his head and pressed it into Clint’s shoulder, his lips brushing against Clint’s neck. “I wish for you to be released from this whole genie contract.” Clint’s fingers were digging into Bucky’s hips painfully, and he knew it was going to bruise. 

“Wish for something else,” Clint gritted out and Bucky glanced up to see the tears forming. “Wish for something you need. Something you want.”

“I want you to be free to make your own choices,” Bucky said before he moved to straddle Clint. Clint shook his head, only barely, as he watched Bucky with a certain level of defiance. “Clint- do you have to urge me to wish for something other than this?” he asked. Clint was completely still for a moment before his head gave a single nod, a few tears spilling out. Bucky leaned down and kissed his forehead. “How many times do I have to say it before you have to do it?” he asked in a whisper.

“Twice more,” Clint answered. “Please, master, you don’t-”

“I wish for you to be free, Clint,” Bucky said before he caught Clint’s lips for another kiss, Clint’s hips angling up.

“Make another wish. Please,” Clint said again before he licked his lips. “Even if- even if this works. It doesn’t mean I am yours. I could just- I could just be using you to get out of this. I don’t love you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. But even if it were true, and you wanted to walk away, I would let you. In a heartbeat.”

Clint’s eyes widened and his hand found Bucky’s, lacing their fingers together before he squeezed. “I won’t be able to hear you- at least not well.”

“They make hearing aids to help with that. You heard Stark last night,” Bucky said. “Do I have to say it again? I don’t want to hear the begging.”

“Last time,” Clint agreed, swallowing hard. “Please, make another-”

“I want you to be free from this, Clint. I wish for you to be free.”

Bucky rolled away and ended up on the floor when the room washed over in a bright light and a pressure that left his ears buzzing. He stayed still until the light seemed to fade away before he pushed himself up. Clint sat up slowly, his nose wrinkled for a minute before his eyes widened and he frantically looked over his arms, running his hands over his body.

“Clint?” Bucky asked, but Clint didn’t hear a word of it. “Clint- hey-” Bucky was up the moment he saw Clint’s body begin to shake and he pulled Clint into a hug. Clint startled, pushing against Bucky before he could get a good look.

“It… worked,” Clint said in more than a whisper, though Bucky had a suspicion he had meant for it to be quiet. His eyes started to well up again and he pulled Bucky down onto the bed, their bodies pressed together as Clint wrapped him up in a tight squeeze. “It worked! Bucky!”

“Shhhh, it’s seven in the morning, sunshine,” Bucky urged, covering Clint’s mouth with a finger. “You’re shaking.” He must have taken the hint because he seemed to be quieter, though the shaking hadn’t stopped yet.

“I think I need to- this can’t be real. No,” Clint said, rolling Bucky off of him before he scrambled to his feet, dancing on his toes no doubt from the cool floor. He got a serious look on his face before he snapped his fingers, his eyes flying open. “I can’t magic! I can’t do it! I’m not going back!”

“Clint, shhh,” Bucky laughed before getting up. Clint enveloped him into a tight hug and Bucky felt the tears landing on his shoulder.  _ It worked _ Bucky thought, catching sight of Clint’s wrists, which were bare from any dark markings. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his head against Clint’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Clint began to babble and Bucky frowned and looked up. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay. For as long as you’ll have me and I-”

“Clint.” Clint stopped and focused on Bucky’s lips. “Just kiss me.”

Clint smiled, his teeth dragging across his lip playfully. “With pleasure, gorgeous.”

  
  


Bonus Scene:

If someone had told Bucky a year ago that he’d be sitting here, the whole world at his fingertips, that he would have it all- he would have thought you were crazy. His life had been a mess, and in many ways it still was, and he thought there was no way of ever being able to dig something out. He was working a job that barely paid the bills, trying to get a degree because that’s what everyone expected you to do, and he was attending therapy appointments just because it appeased Steve. He had been in a slump and had no idea how to pull himself back out.

Now though-

“You can do it- nice and easy.”

Now he could look at his whole world every single day. He could wake up counting the freckles he had memorized, could watch the way the sun reflected off the blond hair that never seemed to be tamed. He could watch long limbs and a lean torso do yoga and encourage him to do the same, which Bucky now happily obliged. Every day he would be greeted with the warmest smile and the tightest hug. It didn’t mean that there weren’t bad days- there were still nightmares and stretches where Bucky could barely pull himself out of bed. But now he had someone who could help him through those days, someone that had taken the time to learn what Bucky needed without it even being voiced.

“Bucky, focus. Come on. I’m starving here.” A toe poked at Bucky’s side and he looked over at Clint, that brighter than all the lights in New York smile as his toe slipped under Bucky’s shirt. “It’s okay to be afraid. But babe- it’s just an egg.”

“You try learning to crack an egg with a new hand,” Bucky replied, faking annoyance as he looked back at the task at hand.

“Sorry, you’re right,” Clint said but Bucky could hear the smirk in his voice. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have a laundry list of tasks to learn. I mean- who could ever compare learning to crack an egg to learning how to properly do laundry so his boyfriends clothes don’t dull in color.”

“You’re an ass,” Bucky groaned.

“Yes, we have been through this… several times now,” Clint agreed. “And yet for some reason you still keep me around.”

“I am regretting that decision every day,” Bucky sang and Clint’s toe jabbed at him again. Bucky took a deep breath and cracked the egg. He paused before he grinned. “None on the metal plates.” The cheer that erupted from Clint made Bucky’s stomach swish and his heart swell. “Alright, calm down, it’s just an egg.”

“The first one done without a mess,” Clint insisted. He grabbed Bucky’s shirt and pulled him over, kissing him briefly. “Now maybe in another three hours I can actually have that breakfast you promised me,” he said against Bucky’s lips.

“And maybe one of these days I can convince you that there are other hoodies in our closet,” Bucky shot back. He knew how much Clint loved the grey hoodie, the words slowly starting to fade from the constant wear and wash cycle.

Clint’s lips tugged into a smirk before he kissed Bucky once more. “Keep wishin’, gorgeous.”


End file.
